From Her Eyes
by Jax Solo
Summary: Movieverse REMIX! Iron Bonds AU: Andy arrives in Malibu a few weeks before Tony's trip to Afghanistan. Can she face her demons in the treachery of Stane? Will she ever trust herself to tell Tony just what is wrong?
1. Chapter 1

"Good morning. It is six-thirty AM..."

The blonde in my brother's bedroom stirred slowly as Jarvis kept talking, giving the whole 'what's happening in the world' speech. I eyed the feed from the security camera, eyes narrowed while I scowled deeply at her. Tony himself was out like a light (not typical, but I couldn't blame him), so she, Christine Everhart of _Vanity Fair_, gently pulled on Tony's shirt from the night before – teeth grater, that – and looked out sleepily on the ocean view outside. Well. Time for my personal warm welcome to a day in the life at the fancy Stark mansion in Malibu, California.

The name's Andy Stark. If you're really that interested, my whole name is Andrea Jacqueline Stark, but Andy's perfectly cool by me. Yes, the greatly famous and somewhat infamous Tony Stark is my brother. Older brother, actually, by five years. But I, unlike him, have a better morality than he does. I mean, honestly, he has to come home with a new woman at least twice a week, while I gladly lock myself in my room and enjoy my own personal brand of fun. Of course, on this lovely morning, I'm downstairs in Tony's garage, ready to work on my custom bike, but getting fairly annoyed by the houseguest. So what do you think I do? I power up a music playlist, and put on 'Rock and Roll Band' by Boston. Full volume. Yes, that would wake her up nicely....

The intercom twittered faintly, but I still managed to push my wheeled chair over and press the button. It had to be Pepper, Tony's assistant. She pretty much keeps his life in order, something I'm totally grateful to her for.

"Morning, Pepper!" I called over the music, and I could imagine Pepper grimacing as my music stormed through the channel.

"Andy, I think we get the message...now can you turn it down? The floor's starting to shake," she asked, and I sighed heavily. Damn. So much for my fun of the morning. But then I remembered one of Pepper's usual morning tasks: taking out the trash. I smirked and went to turn off my music, in a slightly better mood before bounding easily through the door up to the house and up the stairs.

Little Miss Everhart was already speaking to Pepper, taking her dry cleaning and still wearing Tony's shirt. I waited patiently in the doorway until I heard Pepper deliver one of my most favorite things to hear from her: "I do anything and everything Mister Stark requires. Including taking out the trash."

"Morning, Pepper, today is a lovely day," I greeted once she said that wonderful, subtle slam. Everhart's gaze immediately latched onto me, and I could see the surprise etched on her retinas as she figured out who I was. I guess it's because me and Tony dress totally different from each other: even when he's wearing jeans, he always manages to at least look professional, while I reject almost every form of feminine dress and modern fashion. Today, my outfit of choice included old, nearly destroyed jeans, a baggy-but-comfortable black AC/DC t-shirt, and my very favorite Doc Martens steel-toe boots. Compared to Pepper, in a clean skirt suit and blouse, I looked like something a cat had dragged in. Probably.

"Your taste in music is very...loud," Everhart commented bracingly, while I coolly walked into the kitchen to get some coffee and dunking in a fair amount of chocolate-flavored creamer. Of course, I managed to quirk a brow and decided to get eloquent.

"Christine Everhart, Vanity Fair, I assume," I replied. She raised her brows and nodded very slightly before I continued, "Your taste in writing ranks far below mine. If you really want to know, I've burned almost all of your articles since 2001, and, thanks to you, entirely halted my subscription."

She didn't like that. I could tell by the very tight smile she managed to screw onto her face. Oh, she knew who I was by now, and I smirked proudly as I took a slurp of my coffee.

"You must be the annoying little sister I've heard so much about."

Annoying?! _Annoying?!_ Me?! Now just hang on! The only person who knows I even _exist_ is Tony! Well, and Pepper, but by the startled look on her face she'd been thrown by that too. Ooh, this chick was so getting it.... I set my mug aside and crossed my arms, frosting her with my best glare.

"Then maybe you oughta take my brother's shirt off your ungrateful, snobbish shoulders, put your own little tramp's clothes on, and get the hell out," I suggested coldly, and I knew I'd pissed her off by the way she tightened her grip on the dry-cleaned suit. I saw Pepper sag with minor relief; I guess she'd been almost desperate for help to 'take out the trash' this time around. Everhart tried to return my gaze with a glare of her own, but she failed. _Miserably_.

"Then I'll change."

Andy, one; Everhart, none! She flounced off, and I shot Pepper a broad grin before picking up my mug again and settling at the table with my usual breakfast-flavored Hot Pocket. Mercifully, Everhart left with a very _solid_ closing of the door, and Pepper ventured up the stairs after eating her breakfast of scrambled eggs and French toast. I was reading over the comics section when Pepper came back, shaking her head.

"Not getting up, is he?"

"Apparently, he had a little...too much fun last night," Pepper sighed, and I rolled my eyes before pushing away from the table and hiking up the stairs. Sometimes, my own brother really, truly disgusts me. But it'd been my choice to move in, so I might as well do my part in the house. Like waking said brother up.

His room was next door to mine – the first door without caution tape criss-crossing it – and, without so much as a pause, I hefted my fist and hammered on the door.

"TONY, WAKE THE HELL UP!" I shouted through the door, and I knew that had woken him up by the _thud_ I heard on the other side. I just decided to come through on the annoying part and added, "I don't care if you're naked!"

I heard him shuffle around in his room – and I swore I heard him grumble "She took my shirt" – before he shuffled for the door and opened it. Unlike his usual appearance, Tony looked half-awake, hair a mess, and eyes bleary. Not to mention he was wearing his bedsheets. Har har, Tony. I love you anyway.

"Morning!" I informed him brightly and pecking him on the cheek as he woke up a bit more. "Coffee's still hot, the garage is ready, and the trash has been effectively burned."

"Great, Andy," he mumbled before reversing slightly and closing his door to change. I sighed and hiked into my room to grab my toolkit before heading back for the garage, getting right to work on my bike. Tony appeared not long later, and he put on his music playlist (handy that both of us like rock) before he started on his hotrod.

Now, we were left alone for a few hours, working in relative silence, me at the ready with my iPod, Tony sometimes talking to Jarvis, the house's AI. But then Pepper came downstairs, tapped in her code, and the music died almost right away. I wired up on the instant, although I knew Tony and Pepper were more than likely – as usual – discussing upcoming things while Tony tried to flirt with her. Sigh. At least I could live with Tony marrying Pepper. They've been boss-and-employee for a few years now, as far as I can remember.

But then…I saw a jab of Tony's thumb towards me. Oh, great. I slipped off an earbud so I could keep half-listening to the All-American Rejects and glancing at them in minor confusion.

"Sorry, I missed that…?"

Pepper gave Tony a long look and chided firmly, "They're expecting you and _only_ you, Mister Stark." Thank you, Pepper, for trying to save me from whatever evil fate Tony has in store for me….

"Well, they get a bonus," Tony argued. I sighed and turned off my iPod and crossed my arms.

"Will somebody explain?!"

It was Pepper who explained. In very short, me-style terms, this was a demo of new rockets for the company. In Afghanistan. And you can imagine that, in my head, at least, I was freaking out. It sort of helped that I verbally freaked out, too.

"No way am I goin' out into a war zone!"

"You never get to see the world, Andy," Tony pointed out. "Just this one time, out and back."

"Y'know, this's why I can just jump a satellite and get the bird's-eye-view…"

"And that's why you get to see it at ground level," Tony answered, and a smirk cracked his face. Uh oh. I _hated_ that smirk. It usually meant I'd end up capitulating. "Besides. Who's going to keep me out of trouble?"

Oh, the _bastard_. I at least made a show of trying to come up with another excuse, but the thing was I _had_ no other excuse. If there's one thing I end up doing, it's keeping my crazy older brother under control and from going outright insane with everything he gets up to.

"Point," I sighed in defeat, getting to my feet and pocketing my iPod as "Real World" came on with the power. "I'll go pack, and you better not leave without me!"

"Wouldn't dream of it!" Tony called after me while I hiked up two flights of stairs to get to my room. Now, to pack for a trip to a searing hot desert, which was also a potential war zone.

Just for background noise, I jacked into the secret cam system I'd installed – part of a big project I was working on finally maturing – and opened up the cam in the garage, cranking up the audio. Just to make sure Tony didn't get _too_ fresh with Pepper while I was gone.

And it was really no surprise that the feed kicked in right as Tony commented to Pepper, "I'd think you want me gone."

I had to stifle a groan. Great; in came his usual flirtation scheme.

"I have plans," Pepper replied, while a faint reddish tinge appeared on her cheeks. I rolled my eyes and stuffed a pair of jeans, a clean t-shirt, and my battered black Converses into a duffel bag. Sometimes, I just wished Tony would ask her out. Like, honestly, he needs someone like her in his life a little more permanently. And minus paycheck.

"I don't like it when you have plans," Tony replied plaintively as Pepper flicked open a folder with a piece of paper for him to sign. I paused in my door, glaring at the computer screen as Pepper straightened; that was her way of bristling slightly.

"I'm allowed to have plans on my birthday."

If you'd believe it, my jerk of a brother tried to cover for himself. He'd forgotten his assistant's birthday. The idiot. I shook my head as I headed out of my room to raid Pepper's closet for something nice to wear for the demonstration, muttering, "Tony, stop the flirting..."

I finished packing and slung my bag over my shoulder, marching back downstairs. Tony was still trying to flirt with Pepper, so I got onto my bike without their notice and twisted the keys into the ignition, causing the engine to roar to life.

"Men!" I yelled over the rumbling before kicking the bike into gear and riding up the ramp. I started laying on speed once I was outside, racing Tony's driver all the way to the airport. I _so_ arrived first, but Tony wasn't too far behind in his classy Audi R8. While Tony and Happy got set to board the private jet, I was already up the stairs, and was soon met by a disgruntled-looking Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes. He was probably annoyed over Tony's habitual lateness, as usual, so the jaunty salute I tossed him probably didn't improve his mood.

"Colonel Rhodes, good morning," I greeted him as I stepped around him and onto the plane. I ignored all the scantily-clad stewardesses as I headed for a bedroom – not surprising – and settled in for the ride.

I couldn't help but wonder what had happened to my brother to make him a drinking, womanizing jerk. There was a time he wasn't like that. Wasn't like that at _all_. I missed that version of Tony. But I had to make do with this one. Even if I didn't have to like it.


	2. Chapter 2

We arrived in Afghanistan eventually. I managed to get into the pencil skirt, stilettos, and blouse I'd borrowed from Pepper, and Tony looked shocked at my transformation. I quirked my brows at him as I slipped on my shades to block out the painful desert sun, and we headed down the stairs to be greeted by big-time generals. To make a long story short, we got shipped out to a place far from the base, Tony showed off his missiles to a very grateful military crowd. I heard Tony talking to Obadiah Stane on his cell phone, and I had to bite down an inner snarl as I got into one of the humvees and dug out my personal ACDC mix to plug into the CD player in there before Tony got in. I tuned out an altercation between him and Rhodes, and soon, we were on our way back to base.

I was nodding along to "Back in Black" when Tony suddenly called for questions from our friends in the jeep with us. The guy in front asked one of the dirtiest questions imaginable: "Did you really go twelve for twelve with last year's Maxim cover models?"

The Tony I remembered would have paled at the very thought of simply going _one_ for twelve with _any_ Maxim cover model. The Tony sitting with me gave an answer that made me sick to my stomach, so I fixed my gaze to the passing landscape. Again I got struck with wondering who the jerk who replaced my brother was.

Quite unexpectedly, though, the youngest soldier, who was sitting in the back with me and Tony, gently nudged me in the middle. I glanced at his name badge: Moreau. Another glance at the shoulder revealed he was a mere second lieutenant.

"Like livin' with your brother?" he asked, and I managed a grin at that before shrugging.

"Food's not too bad, nice décor and excellent service. But living with that jerk?" I thumbed at him, and I sensed a playfully-hurt gaze aimed at the base of my neck as I continued, "I keep to my room as much as possible!"

"But I'd figure he'd be extra-nice, I mean, you bein' his sister and all..."

"I get to roam the house and his garage. That's pretty good for not seeing him for about....six, seven years or so...."

"Ah," Moreau said thoughtfully. "Still on the awkward side, huh?" I managed a smile. He might've been a kid, military-wise, but he had good instincts. Not to mention he had a cute smirk, despite the helmet and combat fatigues.

"Okay, next time you're in the States and anywhere around Los Angeles, you're getting dinner, on me," I offered, and Moreau's face lit up. I returned the grin as I added, "I'll even clean up real nice for ya."

"_My_ sister?!" Tony's voice echoed behind me weakly, and I turned around to glare at him a little.

"If you're allowed, so am I!" I snarked at him, and Tony scowled at me faintly, before Moreau elected to keep the peace by asking us to be in a picture with him. We were working on getting arranged on either side of Moreau – me and him throwing up peace signs, Tony looking outright bored – before an explosion rocked the ground in front of us.

We ended up stopping, and everything moved in a whirlwind around us. Our driver and the other soldier sprang out but were shot down on the instant. Moreau had to climb over me so as to jump out himself. I could hear the gunfire as he ran out, and I flinched when I heard a bang and saw Moreau's foggy silhouette drop to the ground.

My first date had just gotten killed. My luck must be really, really shitty today. And it got worse when Tony thought it would be smart to jump out of the humvee.

"Oh, for God's _sake_," I snarled, kicking my door open and prying off the heels I was in before starting to bound off along the hot sand. I glanced around, dodging the sounds of bullets zipping past before I spotted Tony, running parallel to me. I scrabbled to meet up with him, the soles of my feet burning.

"Tony!" I screamed as I saw him duck down against a rock and I found my own boulder to hide behind. "This is your fault!'

"No, it isn't!" he barked back, and I noticed he had a gun in his hands. Apparently, it was useless. That or Tony was useless firing it.

We stayed put for a little bit before bullets started winging towards us, and I grabbed Tony's arm and dragged him after me while we ran to another safe spot.

"Let's find cover! Hurry!" I yelped, leaping as the sand got even hotter under my feet. There was a brief explosion that forced us against a gray rock, and I glanced around, wondering when the fighting was going to stop before I heard the rapid-fire beeping of Tony's cell phone. I nearly bit off with a sarcastic remark before I heard something thud into the ground next to us.

The next ten seconds felt like ten hours. I looked over and saw the rocket, reading the Stark Industries logo emblazoned on it. I recognized the model: a late-detonation type, one that fired charged metal shards into the nearest living object for three meters in radius. The charge would drive the pieces towards the nearest source of energy, usually the unlucky sap's heart. I saw Tony stagger back, trying to turn and run. I flung myself in front of him, eyes widening as I heard the tone that meant an imminent explosion.

The rocket blew practically right in front of my face. Searing pain tore through my chest, and I thought I heard myself scream as I hit the ground, unable to breathe, the world going hazy-white before I blacked out.

I think I fazed in and out a couple times. Each time I was awake, it was only for a few seconds, and I was in a vast world of pain. I remember I was screaming, remember voices barking over me. I swore I heard Tony's voice call my name once or twice. But the rest of the time, I had no idea what was going on.

At least it was better than being dead, right?

When I felt myself start waking up, I was already wondering if I was in the afterlife, and why in the _world_ someone who had just died and gone to heaven needed a breathing tube up their nose. Oh. Right. That meant I was alive. _Duh_. But the feeling of air getting pumped into my lungs via a tube that was up my nose and down my throat was _not_ the best sensation in the world, so I reached up and yanked the thing out, choking for two seconds as it slid up my windpipe before the end finally came out my nose. I had to sneeze and cough after I'd tossed the tube aside.

I carefully started sitting up, my chest aching like a whole stampede had gone over it, not to mention my sternum felt heavier than usual. I paused when I started getting dizzy, and a groan managed to escape my lips as I cranked myself upright. I thought I heard something drag against a table behind me, felt a yanking sensation from my chest. I didn't want to think about what those terrorists – had to be, right? – had dug into me. Instead of looking at my chest, I forced myself to raise my head and open my eyes.

The cave was dark, its lighting barely adequate in the form of a fire crackling a few feet away. I rubbed at my nose before I noticed a figure shuffling towards me from a small table that was near the farther side of the cave. I blinked when I saw Tony, messy, dirty, and wires trailing out of his chest to a car battery that was in a burlap sling over his shoulder. I think a pit dropped into my stomach.

He settled in next to me, dropping the heavy battery before gently reaching around my shoulders. I tucked myself in tight next to him, suddenly afraid. I tried not to voice it as I asked, "Tony, what the hell happened? I remember….an explosion, but then…blank."

"Don't worry about it, sis," he shushed me, reaching for a tin cup on a small table on his other side. I think he was trying to keep me from freaking out; nice of ya, Tony, but not the best thing for me right now. "You're okay. Here, let's get some water into you…."

I nodded, but still fixed a glare at him as he passed me the cup. Once I'd drained it, I slowly peeked a glance down my bandages. Not like I could see much, except for bruised skin, dried blood…and a large black _thing_ between my collarbone and my breasts. And this thing was where the wires were connected. _God above_. I swallowed as my fear started bubbling into a mild panic.

"What…what happened? What've they done to us?!" I asked, trying to keep from breaking into hysterics. But I managed to recover as I snidely added, "And don't lie to me, you moron, I'm a realist and you know it."

Tony sighed, rubbing his face a little as he seemed to be formulating a response that didn't hide the truth from me. Not like I probably couldn't figure it out, myself, as my last few seconds of complete memory came ticking back. Also there was the fact that my big brother looked dead on his feet; I guess I'd been bad off from the explosion.

_You wanted to die, though_, a wicked voice hissed in my head. _You'd rather be dead now, and him alive. No one else but him cares about you, anyway._

"The…the missile," he began haltingly, voice shaking. "You…you ended up getting the worst of it. I did what I could, but…."

He got up, hefting his battery before heading for another table, covered with pieces of paper, remains of pencils and charcoal sticks, while I very carefully tugged the white gauze bandage off the black...thing and poked at it gently, not going near the wires. Ick. Not cool.

I took a deep breath as I watched him for a little while, listening to the _scratch-scratch-scratch_ of the pencil on paper before I had the guts to ask the big questions.

"Tony…how long? And…and what about you? Are _you_ okay? How do we get out of here?"

He sighed, getting up to shuffle back over to me and sit, gently putting an arm over my shoulders. Somehow – maybe it was because of facing certain death and barely making it out, on the both of us – he was acting less like a jerk and more like a brother. I think I liked it, or at least right now I liked it.

"Don't know," he sighed eventually. "However long…the batteries hold, I guess. Maybe…a week? Two?"

"Important week for us, then," I slid in. Tony nodded in agreement, rubbing my shoulder a little.

"And as for getting out of here…well."

He just gave me that look that said 'don't worry, I have everything under control' (it's especially common when things really aren't under control) and gently tapped his temple. I didn't fight down a groan at the sight of that look.

"You know I hate it when you look at me like that," I sighed, shaking my head a little. Slowly, I turned, reaching back to grab the heavy, black car battery that, apparently, was powering some kind of object now residing in my chest. Probably an electromagnet, considering the rocket. At least I remembered _that_ much.

The first of the more morbid thoughts came as Tony got up to get back to sketching, leaving me to cradle that battery in my lap. A week, at best. One whole week to live. What was I going to do? What would I say in my last days with Tony? Did I tell him what Stane had done to me, so long ago? Tell him what I really thought about his antics in the years after Dad's death? How did I even _start_ that conversation?

I almost did. I opened my trap and gently started saying his name, but I stopped. No. I couldn't tell him. Didn't want to. I didn't want the worse part of all of my potential outcomes envisioned in the event I _did_ tell him to come out.

"They'll probably be back in a little while," Tony said eventually, face cool and voice serious for the first time in a long time. "I've got an idea of what they want, but you know they're not gettin' it."

"Your guess is as good as mine," I sighed, getting up and brushing away those awfully morbid and depressing thoughts. I made sure to tote my battery with me as I peered over his shoulder, watching him sketch. Of course, he being an engineering major and me being a computer geek, I barely understood what he was drawing at all.

"Are you sharing or am I out of the loop as usual?"

Tony barely mumbled some affirmative in reply. Translation: out of the loop. I scowled a little before shuffling back to my cot, getting ready to probably grab some more sleep…and then the door got pounded on. I jolted upright at the sound of voices. I managed to recognize the Arabic getting yelled at us, and I reluctantly straightened while Tony dropped his pencil.

"I think we're about to meet our hosts," I commented snidely.

"Figures," Tony sighed in agreement, getting to his feet and resting the battery against his side. "And I just _bet_ they love the whole submission thing, so…"

He raised his hands, clasping his fingers behind his head. I stayed seated, but did the same thing as the metal doors crashed open, revealing armed guards, and a fat, bearded Arab man who looked more like a business mogul trying to play the part than a real live terrorist mastermind. I almost doubt he even was the mastermind.

The terrorist strode forward, a curled photograph in one hand, and he gave us both a warm smile as he spread his arms wide in welcome. Although he spoke in Arabic, I kept up – thanks to four years of Arabic at MIT, plus that Rosetta Stone program in the past two years – and quietly translated for Tony's sake.

"Welcome, Tony Stark," he greeted us, "the most famous mass murderer in the history of America. For us, we would like you and your assistant to build us something." That got me to bristle inside; well, at least they'd mistaken me for Pepper instead of who I really was. Of course he continued, proffering the photo.

"We would ask you to build a missile. A Jericho missile."

I got to my feet, taking the photo in my free hand and gingerly unrolling it for me and Tony to inspect. Yeah, it was the exact same missile system Tony had shown off before our convoy back to the air base had gotten blown up. I swallowed a little, glancing at Tony, who didn't meet my gaze.

"Tell him I want to see what I'd be working with."

_That_ got me to start angrily, grabbing his arm and twisting away from the terrorist jerk for a moment before hissing, "What the hell d'ya think you're doing?! They'll. Kill. Us. _Anyway_. Me, I'd rather go down fighting!"

I didn't want to see this. I didn't want to feel betrayed. But Tony finally looked at me, and I saw the firm resolve there. I think my heart snapped right about then.

"Tell them," he insisted. "Am I going to have to say please? Pretty please?"

I growled faintly before whirling back, managing to compose myself as I relayed Tony's request. Of course, the leader of this merry band waved forward two cronies. Next thing I knew, I had a burlap sack over my head and I was getting shoved forward with more Arabic being shouted into my ears. But I wasn't entirely senseless. I made sure to count steps and note turns. In the event of an escape. One never knew.

Our forced march ended maybe five minutes later, and the sack was torn away from my head to burn my eyes with hot sunshine. I had a momentary whiteout before my eyes adjusted, and when they did…I almost half-wished they hadn't.

The camp we had emerged into was huge, at least a hundred square yards, covered with camo netting. What it covered was almost the entire catalog of Stark weaponry. I felt another bristle rise to match the second rip through my chest. Metaphorically speaking.

Tony's guns. These bastards were carrying and using Tony's guns. I got shoved close to Tony as we were pushed down a rock and dust ramp, into the camp proper. It allowed me to shoot off a venomous little quip.

"Tony, they're holding your guns, you _hypocrite_."

I think he would've replied if our host hadn't stopped, waving around and jabbering again. I sighed as I just decided to interpret instead of directly translate.

"He wants to know what you think. Make no-never-mind about what I think…"

Tony gave me a long look, something meaningful-like. I scowled at that look. Great. He didn't want his kid sister to screw up a secret transaction. _Fine_, you two-faced, no-good….

"Tell him I'm…surprised, I think the best word is," he replied. I didn't exactly relate it like that, but it got the terrorist to beam at Tony before speaking again. Pretty much it was a breakdown of what he wanted: one Jericho, pretty please, and, oh yes…

"When we've got it, he'll let us go," I finished with a snort. Oh, _sure_. Catch the world's top weapons designer and just let him go after one missile. "Yeah, sure you will, fatso…"

"You're right," Tony agreed as he offered his hand to the terrorist to shake on the agreement. "He won't."

Somehow, that felt like the third strike of the day.


	3. Chapter 3

Vengeful thoughts were chasing each other in my brain as we were walked back to the cave, burlap sacks and all. I went to keep the fire going, pulling on a hat as the temps started dropping. Once the blaze was back, I glared into the fire, stewing silently.

My brother was even more than a jerk than I'd thought. He'd sold weaponry to the US military for years, now, and only now I realize what absolute hypocrisy he'd fallen into. Double-dealing. Selling to both sides of a war. Nothing more than…what was the term…an iron monger. That was it. And his guns had killed men meant to protect us. Rhodes, the soldiers in our humvee…my first date. _Ever_. And, in a way, Tony had killed them. And I was really, _really_ pissed off.

It was silent for a long, long while, me glaring into the flames, stewing with all sort of nasty thoughts in my head, before Tony decided to speak.

"It's not what you think it is."

"And what is it _you_ think it is?" I snarled back, grabbing up a stick and poking it into the fire so I wasn't tempted to give Tony a punch. "Oh, I don't know, maybe it's you selling to these losers, and all you ever openly said was that you were helping protect the country…you hypocritical, insensitive….._moron!!_"

I threw the stick away, nearly grabbing up the battery to toss at Tony. Of course, maybe I was only acting like this because…well, it's complicated. I wasn't pleased with the situation – I don't think _anyone_ would be – not to mention I've got a slight complex that makes me really not happy at being dependent on somebody else. At the moment, that was the battery, and Tony, a little.

Then again, it was also the little kid inside me, that bruised and battered tween that hoped and pleaded that Tony was still a good person. But that was the thing. For all I knew, my brother had changed in the years we'd been apart, becoming a stranger, someone I wouldn't know. I mean, Tony's pretty damn close to the only family I've had my whole life: brother, father, mother. Mom died when I was five – cancer, I think – and Dad…well, Dad had never really liked me all that much. Tony was all I had.

"That's not what I'm doing, I _swear_," Tony pleaded, and he got up, grabbing some of the pages he'd been scribbling on and crossed around to me, crouching down and tried to show me the papers. But, me being me when I'm in certain moods, I just gave the pages a cursory glare – hacker, not engineer, remember – and waved Tony off.

Right about then, I really, really wished I had a hole to crawl into and wall off for the rest of my life.

"Look," Tony sighed, voice steeling over suddenly, desperately. "I know I've been a jerk, but I – I need you to believe me, just this once! I'm not playing a traitor, I'm going to get us out!"

"Sure, like leaving me out of the loop really helps," I bit back. "Thanks for the high opinion on my intelligence."

I don't know why I said this next bit. Maybe I just felt so hurt and alone and I was just so damn moody that I couldn't help it. And the bit in question?

"You're becoming just like Dad."

Now, coming from me, this is not a compliment. When the press compares Tony to Howard Stark, it's in praise and adoration. When _I_ compare Tony to Dad…it's about close to the absolute worst insult I could throw at him. And, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the flicker of pain on Tony's face. He knew what I meant.

"I'd think you'd let me try to make it up to ya," he muttered softly, and that about did it. I twisted to face him, felt tears in my eyes. Right then, I didn't care that I'd broken a five-year-old's promise on her mother's grave to never cry and always be tough and strong. Right then, I'd been hurt, I'd been insulted and played, and I was _through_ with hiding it.

"I've been _trying_, you _jerk_! Every damn day since I moved in, I _tried_ to ignore the antics, _tried _to act like everything was just fine and back to normal! But _this_?! This's too much, and, dammit, Tony, I can't take it anymore!"

I refused to sob. Just let my chest heave before turning away and planting my chin on my knees, arms wrapped around my folded legs as tears streaked down my face. But I was totally surprised and off my guard as Tony suddenly reached out and wrapped his arms around me, shushing me quietly as he rested his chin over my shoulder. That was when I felt totally awful for yelling at my big brother and leaned my head into his neck, all of me shuddering as I fought down the sobs.

"I don't wanna die, Tony," I mumbled eventually, voice cracking a little. "I don't wanna die, don't leave me alone, please don't die before I do…"

Tony squeezed tight, softly massaging my arms.

"Hey, sh, I've got an idea there, too," he soothed quietly. "Don't'd cry, Andy…don't cry, sis…."

He loosened his hold on me a little, reaching into a pocket of his pants and pulling out another piece of paper. I rubbed my eyes dry as he unfolded it and showed it to me. Even though he quietly pitched it to me – there was no getting rid of that salesman, I figured – I realized what it was, just from the shape. I knew what it was, because, all those years ago, I'd helped Tony build a larger version of this back home. Of course, once my memory kicked into gear, I slowly took the page, sniffling still, just a little.

"Are you sure?" I asked, not wanting to look at Tony. "I mean, can we –"

I paused. Not we. One hacker plus one engineer did _not_ make for this project taking off. Cue a mental erase and edit.

"Can _you_ make two of these within the week?"

Tony sighed, lowering his gaze a little and running a hand through his hair. I didn't know how his mind was working, even though I used to. I hoped this insane plan of his was going to work.

Finally, he spoke.

"I can try."

I took a deep breath and nodded. Good; trying was good. Trying was the best I could hope for. So I dried my eyes and got to my feet, finding a clean scrap of paper and snatching a graphite stub, giving it a quick, painless lick to make sure it would write legibly.

"Guess I need to make a grocery list," I said, opening up my mental catalogue of every Stark product made since Tony's rise to the CEO-ship. "Unless we can conjure all this stuff out of thin air, meaning we could call Rhodes and have them bomb this place to hell while we run away."

It got Tony to grin faintly.

"We wish. A'right, ready?"

I nodded, after scribbling down a few items, along with, plus the other things Tony listed, a computer, a graphing calculator (hopefully), and, just for grins, a stereo and a few choices of the classics. Tony himself wanted butterscotch cookies – didn't blame him – and, of course, all the other techie stuff he'd get to cannibalize. Of course, after front-and-back on two sheets of paper, the flow from both of us finally stopped, and Tony peered over my shoulder to look it all over.

"That should keep them busy," he chuckled with a nod, before I bounced toward the door, knocking firmly before passing the list through the slot.

"I hope you Muslim radical idiots read English!" I snapped as the slot slammed shut, almost on the tip of my nose. I sniffed a little and marched back into the larger part of the cave, cradling my battery with a sigh. Today had been a long day, and my body clock was insisting on recharge. So I dropped onto my cot with a grunt, dropping my battery with a solid _thunk _before flopping back. The wires tugged slightly, and I frowned at the obnoxious black cylinder poking disgustingly out of my chest. Sooner Tony got his project done, the better.

"You know," Tony said eventually from his worktable, "we've never really...talked these past few years. Guess it was my screw-up, more'n likely...."

"No," I snapped gingerly. Now, after all these years, he wanted to _talk_?! I couldn't help but feel slighted. "It's not your fault. You've been busy with the company, and I've been having fun with my semi-legal activities."

I knew it was half a lie, and so did he. Neither of us spoke, and it got my mind to wandering back to when we'd been kids living in a house too big for us on Long Island. Sometimes, when we played hide-and-seek, after Tony had found me, he'd hug me hard and tickle me until I was screaming and laughing and crying all at once. Then Mom had died. Then Tony had left for MIT. I was left alone with Howard Stark, my unfavoring, unloving father, for two painful, lonely years. My separation from Tony ended when I'd hacked MIT's mainframe and enrolled myself, and, at ten years old, I ran to be with my brother.

Two years had been long enough to change Tony irreversibly. Gone was the tickling. Gone was the fun and laughter. So I'd buried myself into my computer science studies, and the gulf had grown. And after Dad's death in that car accident – which I don't think was an accident at all – I had been plunged into a living nightmare, one that had never really ended. And all of my luck was gone. Not to mention I severely doubted Tony had any left, either.

"I'm sorry," Tony suddenly mumbled. It made me look up at him in surprise. "For not...bein' like you need me to be. For not talkin' to ya....and getting you into this whole mess...."

In a sudden anger at himself, Tony shoved away from the table, grabbed a rock, and chucked it into the nearest corner. I swallowed a little, slowly getting upright.

"It's my fault, too," I croaked. Great, a second meltdown today. "Didn't try to stay in touch after.....after Dad...."

That was the best way I could put it. No way was I going to admit what Stane had done to me that night. I couldn't. Besides, what if Tony was so swayed by Stane's outwardly mask of our loving uncle that he didn't believe me, his kid sister?

But I knew, right then, that if the true monster that Obadiah Stane was behind this mess, he'd _pay_, not just for this, but for what he did to me. Trust me on this.

"Could've done something," Tony huffed before he paced to the fire, stabbing at the glowing embers. Then he glanced up at me, his dark eyes fixed to me.

"Guess I can't...make it up to ya, can I? I don't mean buying you all sorts of crap you don't need, I mean...getting back to where we were."

The tiny girl inside me glowed a little. He still cared. He still loved me. Very gently, I rolled onto my side, meeting his gaze. In those dark brown eyes of his, I saw my big brother, my eternal protector, at long, long last.

"Sounds a'right to me."


	4. Chapter 4

Work began hours later, probably making it the next day. It's very hard to tell time down in a dark cave without any sunlight to hint at the time and, therefore, how long you've been imprisoned. But soon both me and Tony had a lot more to worry about, mostly in the convincing of our 'gracious' hosts that we were doing exactly what they wanted. But, really, we had to get the final lifelines, otherwise…well. We were screwed in that case.

And, yes, Tony got his cookies. Had to mention that.

About the biggest help I was in everything Tony needed was cannibalizing the equipment we had brought in, playing steady hands when it was absolutely necessary. Of course, I did have my own job. Even though the laptop was a good ten, if not fifteen, years old, I managed to hack my way into their rudimentary security system, record a few clips from all the available cameras, and start feeding loops, _especially_ when we were working on very sensitive material. The most sensitive of this was (by my personal estimation) two days later, when a crystal device, about one and a half inches deep and two in diameter, glowed to life on the table, nearly overloading the generators that powered our temporary home.

I stared at the beautiful miniature arc-reactor in awe. By then, it wasn't just Tony's reactor; it was _our_ reactor, _our_ job. And can I be blamed for starting to jump up and down in joy once the clear blue light was gleaming solidly?

"We did it!" I crowed victoriously after a few fist pumps. "I _knew_ we could do it!"

Tony grinned a little as he unplugged the powered reactor from the wires and cradled it a little, dirty fingers rubbing against the surface gently before he got up and made me stop jumping.

"All right, this's all yours," he said firmly. "Let's get you plugged in, c'mon…"

I froze at that. Mine? Tony was giving me the first one? But…no, no, it wasn't going to happen like this….

"But what about you?" I stammered, clutching the heavy car battery to my chest. "You still gotta get hooked up, we've gotta make another before the batteries die!"

I prevented my hysterics by steeling my gaze and raising my chin defiantly at Tony, finishing with, "I'm not putting it in until you make one for yourself."

"Then I'll put it in you while you sleep," he huffed, and the look he met my gaze with showed that he was serious. He wanted to save my life first. "Now stop being a stubborn ass about it, I'll have plenty of time."

"Not if I stick it in you first," I shot back with a glare of defiance. No way was I going to let Tony die just so I could rot down here alone. I'd been alone long enough.

We stared at each other, waiting to see who would bend first, and, eventually, Tony shook his head and sighed, setting the reactor aside.

"Then I need more palladium…"

"Comin' right up!" I laughed before diving into a nearby, torn-apart missile. Somehow, being with my brother again had activated my own engineering genes again, or maybe it was just playing copycat, like always. But I worked my ass off for a whole other day, at least, before, right next to the first one, a second arc-reactor glowed to life. I grinned as I lifted it off of the table, the blue light beautiful and clear before I turned to Tony and presented it with a small smile.

"Consider it making up for six years' worth of birthdays."

That did it for him. Tony grabbed me in a fierce hug, and I nearly choked before the small girl inside me, that adored her elder brother, softened immeasurably, and I hugged back as tightly as I possibly could.

"You just beat everythin'," he croaked, and I felt wetness on my neck. Tony was crying. I sniffled weakly and stroked the back of his head a little. I felt like I was five years old again, after Mom's death. Dad had never liked me, and he made sure I knew it. And after every time he'd made me feel useless, that I had no right to exist as his child, Tony would always come find me, always hug me just like this, and we'd hold each other until we'd both cried our share of tears. I had the feeling that Tony had forgotten just how much I loved him…or vice versa.

Of course, I took a chance to again come through on the annoying part of my description. I managed to slide out from his grip, enough to where, in just a few seconds, I wrenched out the upper part of the car-battery-electromagnet and in went the reactor I'd built. Tony lurched a little when the reactor got plugged in, but he looked at me with a faint scowl. I just smirked innocently back at him.

"That didn't hurt, now, did it?" I asked sweetly. He gave me a long look before he tapped experimentally at the reactor. At least it was staying in place, right?

"No, but at least you didn't get me worked up over it," Tony finally conceded, picking up his reactor, before waving me towards the cot. "Get over here, that battery doesn't suit you, sis."

"Good," I replied briskly as I settled, carefully unbuttoning the blouse I'd borrowed from Pepper. Note to self: buy her a new skirt suit and shirt and shoes. Poor woman was probably worried out of her wits over us. "This damn thing annoys."

I gently pulled the shirt open, doing my best not to overexpose myself. For a brief flicker of memory, I remembered Stane, pinning me down, right as he tore my shirt off. I stopped the mental images before they became more painful and disgusting, but I was again asking myself _when will I tell him_?

"If I'm too slow, feel free to slap me," Tony informed me as he sat next to me, jolting me back into the present. Later. I'd tell him later. I gave him a cocky smirk and willed him to not keep me hanging like this.

"If it didn't hurt for you, it shouldn't for me, right?"

It did. It stung vilely. And yes, I did smack Tony soundly.

"Sorry, sorry!" he pleaded, and I stopped my attack because he sounded like he meant it. Obvious improvement over the Tony before this mess happened. "You know I tried…"

"All right, I'll give you that," I conceded, before I sat up, massaging my chest. I finally felt about as close to normal than I had been for awhile, if only that damned stinging would stop. I turned to a small stash I kept on the wall side of the cot, and pulled out a small stack of the thin wax papers we'd been provided for planning. I smirked as I offered the pile to Tony.

"Just guess what this is," I offered. Remember what I'd said about how being around him again had gotten my engineering side to peer out again? Well, this was the result. Tony gave it a glance, trying to make sense of it.

"… you being competitive again?" he ventured. I rolled my eyes at the obvious answer before getting up and flattening the papers over a fluorescent light. Tony peered over my shoulder as he looked closer.

"If you _want_ to know better," I pitched quietly, "it's our ticket home. Or at least out of this damned cave."

I waited, heart racing as Tony surveyed it. I'd almost forgotten that, oh yes, I _am_ a genius. Sometimes it does run in families. But what was so surprising for me right at this second was that I'd done it in an area that really wasn't my smart-person area. It made me closer to Tony, in a way.

"You're gonna wanna hit me," he muttered, "but I forgot you were this good."

I had to laugh at that.

"I try, really I do," I chuckled. Of course, I was a little stunned as Tony stepped away, motioning to our stack of stuff left over from the arc-reactors.

"Have at."

"Bro, I do the planning part," I retorted. "I don't build the damn thing." He raised his brows at me in that stupid 'oh lemme please' way he has. Other women may consider it extremely sexy, but this is my brother, so I say it how it is.

"Then you're gonna need help."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," I informed him with a grin. Soon enough, we were right back to work, each working away on our specialties as w ended the loop. Ah, relief. Sort of.

It was quiet for a bit before Tony looked up from where he was welding together a few plates.

"So," he began, very carefully, "you never did say what you've been up to for the past few couple years…"

I did my very best to be nonchalant about it and shrugged. I wanted to wait longer, didn't want to get him involved in my issues right now. I just wanted to enjoy the simple pleasure of being around him again. So I shrugged.

"Not much, really," I answered. "Mostly hacking, gaming some, causing minor havoc around the world… wonderful little habit, maybe you try it sometime."

"Sounds like I've got a new hobby," Tony answered with a smirk, but it vanished pretty quickly. "I was being serious."

"And I told you. Hacking away in seclusion, minor work on my hacking interface."

"You've been lookin' like something's bugging you," he pressed. I looked away, trying to ignore him as Tony continued, "Bad memory or something. Don't tell me you got into that much trouble just hacking…"

"Well, I dunno," I half-lied, "I think China's got a price on me for screwing over their space program for a few years…maybe North Korea, I forget."

"And you're lying."

_Crap_. I fell stonily silent at that. Fine, he could play mentalist all he wanted, but if only he'd let me get to it on my own time…

"Talk to me, Andy," Tony said after a minute of silence. I scowled a little.

"No."

"You know I'll get it out of ya eventually."

"You'll be wondering awhile."

"Oh, I'm gonna find out, because something's up."

I dropped my gaze, staring blankly at the plans. To tell him…not to tell him… especially with our lifespans successfully returned to normal length, I didn't feel the need to get rid of that burden. But Tony had been with Stane a lot longer than I had, been influenced by him much more thoroughly. I didn't want him to dismiss me like Dad would have.

In the meantime, Tony pressed on, "Somethin' happened when I wasn't around, and I don't mean a little random thing. Something big."

I didn't reply. I was too scared to have him suddenly toss me aside, say I was just being childish. Not after he'd saved me.

Tony eventually mumbled something I didn't entirely make out, but I cried myself to sleep later. Quietly, though; I didn't want him to work it out of me just yet.


	5. Chapter 5

"What are you up to?" the terrorist leader breathed in Arabic a few days later. I struggled to keep my teeth clenched, eyes fixed on the red-hot coal that was only a few inches away from my nose.

See, I'd been stupid that particular day. I'd forgotten to activate our security loops when Tony and I had been testing the leg hydraulics of our escape ticket. Now I was paying for my arrogant stupidity. Oh well, it happens to me a lot, and my ego hasn't really learned its lesson.

"We're building your damn missile!" I snapped as one of the leader's goons pressed the side of my head against the anvil we'd had brought in. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Tony trying to get to me, but he was being held back by more of my assailant's lackeys. But my view was obscured as that coal got closer. Oh, hell.

"What are you up to?" he asked again.

"We're building your Jericho missile!" I insisted, though not lacking in an extremely strong swearword. Doesn't make sense to include such a strong emotional outburst, does it? Totally mars the meaning of the phrase. But he didn't appreciate that particular bluntness, and I felt the heat crawl close to my teeth. Time for me to be bold.

I reached up and managed to snap one of my holders' thumbs. He and his compatriot were so startled I managed to squirm loose, and I managed to slam my fist into the leader's face. He staggered back, cradling his nose for a few seconds and dropping the tongs in his hand. I kicked some sand over the coal before retreating towards Tony.

"We're _building_ your _missile_," I spat when the leader had recovered. I was pissed off, and I was through with being penned up like some animal. Maybe that fueled my whole emotional issues. I don't know. But he glared at me viciously as he recovered, and I made sure to command him and his thugs, "Get the hell out."

Of course, he didn't like it, but he did it. Oh, and he issued his own ultimatum: give him the missile tomorrow. Great. I lunged toward him, ready to really cause some damage, but he finally got smart and beat it.

"Y'know," Tony said once the metal door to our cave had closed and locked behind our host, "guys like him _really_…"

He didn't finish the thought. That was okay. But I was still on a stretched nerve, running off an emotional high, and I kept glaring at the door before turning and muttering, more to myself, "No worse than Stane."

I was about to set down on my cot when I noticed that Tony had stiffened, eyes fixed on me in shock. I cursed myself as I sat heavily, tapping at my reactor, while he edged towards me.

"What did you say?" he asked weakly. I looked down at the floor.

"Nothin'."

"Liar. What about him?"

"Who him?"

Tony gave me a glare that I sensed instead of saw. He was playing too close to it, now. Now I really wondered if this was when I told him what it was that Stane had done to me so long ago. Tell him… don't tell him…

"You know who," Tony pushed, sitting down next to me. "Obi."

I couldn't help but snarl at the nickname I had given that man. _Obi Bouldy_, I'd coined, because he was as big a boulder, and, when he lost all his hair, he looked like one, too. My fists clenched a little, but I managed to keep myself from exploding.

"If you mean _Stane_," I spat coldly, "then yeah. There's _something_ about him."

Tony was quiet, trying to figure me out. Usually, he could figure out what was in my head before I had to say a thing. But, being separated for a few years intervening, he looked at me firmly.

"Then this time I'm getting you to talk to me."

"You'll be trying for awhile," I murmured before flopping onto my side, turning so that I was staring at the near rock wall. I felt his hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. I don't know why it worried me, that he was tryin' so hard to find out. Maybe I was scared I would lose him when I told him, and really be left alone for the rest of my life.

"You've never been this uptight, Andy," Tony murmured softly, his thumb rubbing at my shoulder gently. "C'mon, tell me. What'd he do?"

I closed my eyes, fighting back the rising words in my throat. Even with my eyes shut, I still saw the look on Tony's face, the disbelief, then the same cold look Dad had always, always reserved for me. I saw Stane leering at me triumphantly behind him, laughing menacingly with his eyes. A few tears leaked out as I struggled. I didn't want to tell him and lose Tony. He was _everything_ to me. Tony kept rubbing my back gently, before he lowered his voice and pulled me tight to his chest.

"Look," he sighed softly, his cheek on top of my head, "if he did somethin' to you, I _promise_, I'll go after him the second we get out of here. He hurts family, he hurts me. That's not in his list of privileges."

A sob choked out of my throat. I felt all of my reluctance drop as I stammered out the tale: how I'd gone to Dad's funeral and Stane had cornered me afterwards; how he wanted my hacking interface, Trinity, and my protests, because it was a virus in any other refined form than the basic one I had; how he had just given me his usual half-persuaded look and told me to visit his hotel room that night. I didn't have to say what happened. The flash in Tony's eyes I made out as I finished, looking up at him as I rubbed at my eyes, told me that my worry was for nothing.

"I – I didn't tell you," I finished after a few beats of silence, "because you….you and him always got on well, and I didn't want you to suddenly….suddenly turn on me…call me stupid…."

"Andy," Tony said firmly as he took my shoulders and looked me right in the eye, "how many times do I have to tell you? You're _not_ stupid."

He pulled me in tight again, and I hugged back with all my might. I felt like I was a little kid again, five years old, after Dad had put me down _again_, and I'd locked myself in Mom's room to cry myself out. Tony used one of the secret passages we'd found to make it inside, and he'd grab me tight and tell me fervently that I was the best little sister _ever_.

I always made sure to tell him he was the bravest big brother, and I'd always love him. And I mumbled it softly to myself, and I know Tony heard because I felt his smile on top of my head.

"Okay," I sighed, pulling myself back together, "let's go home. Then we'll go murder Stane."

Tony beamed at me before firmly kissing my forehead.

"That sounds like a _damn_ good idea."

So we worked. And worked. And _worked_. Of course, it took a lot more than just finishing the escape mechanism; we had to perfectly recall the route through the caves to the outside, otherwise we'd never make it out alive, rig a trap for when they came for us in the morning, and make a secondary, not-super-charged version of our ticket home for whoever didn't get to drive the big one. The last major argument boiled down to who got to ride in the big monster. Amazingly, Tony played it safe and let _me_ climb into our major ticket home.

Of course, it was heavy.

"Did you add extra armor when I wasn't looking?" I grumbled as Tony helped me get secured into our creation. He gave me a look and rolled his eyes.

"Do I look like someone who'd skimp?"

"You know I designed it for _escape_, not _internal assault_..." I groaned before heaving a sigh. I'll give our terrorist hosts this, they had _excellent_ timing. The door was pounded on heavily, and both me and Tony froze as we realized that we'd pulled yet another mistake. No loop had gotten activated, and the yelling on the outside wasn't Arabic.

"Tony, I'd like the power-up sequence activated _now_," I moaned. Tony bolted for the laptop, and typed in the commands as I barked them out. All I could do at this point was wait, watching the green bar of the program filling slowly and precariously. Tony, in the meantime, flung on the secondary option and secured all the buckles.

Then they tried to open the door. The entire wall nearly burst out from our jury-rigged bomb, and I cringed away from the searing hot debris. I could hear the echoes from the now-open cave of the explosion.

"Well," I deadpanned, "that'll attract attention."

"Lovely," Tony added, equally deadpan as he skittered towards one of the singed machine guns and grabbed it up. I hoped Tony knew how to use it, but I immediately felt a cold chill run down my spine. I didn't want him to die for me. I couldn't live with that, not now, not that he knew.

"Remember to stick to the plan, okay?" I insisted from my perch. "Keep to the back, all that smart stuff we've been figuring out, right?"

He gave me another glare for my worry.

"I'm a _little_ more selfish than going out to get myself killed, thank you," he noted wryly before he attempted to load the gun.

"The little lever on the side," I added in snidely as I waited, watching the bar. "Faster, now, faster..."

Tony managed to load the gun, just as the first of our captors appeared and rained bullets down the tunnel. I bit back a yell of shock, but Tony managed to dive out of the way, taking cover like a pro. Thank God. He popped off a few rounds, trying to buy time.

And I grinned broadly when the bar filled. And all the lights went out as the mechanical, near-six-foot tall suit of hydraulic-maintained and arc-reactor powered armor rattled to life. Tony slipped away from his post in the shadows, and quickly put the helmet on my head.

"Kick some ass, And-ster."

I shot him a grin that he probably couldn't see, and, y'know what? I totally smacked those punks down. I even got a little bit of a jeer in when I fired off a wrist-mounted rocket at the leader of the merry band that had been holding us for who knows how long. But it was when we – yes, Tony was staying _behind_ me, letting me take the heavy hits, which really wasn't fun – headed outside of the caves.

I was working pretty well at roasting the crates and crates of Stark weaponry until some of the remaining terrorists got to a heavy machine gun. _That_ wasn't fun. They even managed to blow out one of the compensating belts on my knee systems, which flung a buttload of weight onto my shoulders and getting me to collapse. Not fun. At all.

Tony managed to bolt through the conflagration and get close, and I knew it was time to bail. I grabbed him tight, managed to get to my feet, and barely had time to warn him to hang on before I punched the button that turned on the special reason the boots were almost a foot and a half thick on the sole. The rockets activated, and I heard Tony whoop in delight as we sailed through the blast of all the ammunition I'd set to burning.

And we made it out. I had my eyes shut, since I've got a fear of heights and my claustrophobia was setting in the most imaginable way, and because I knew what came with vertical motion: the descent. And my stomach twisted as we started falling like a stone. I made sure to have my back towards the ground, Tony on top of me, before my back slammed into sand.

Then came a few waves of pain. And a lot of groaning.

"Owwww," I moaned after a few seconds after the landing, "this was a stupid idea..."

"Agreed," Tony mumbled in reply as he rolled off me. I was half-buried into the sand, and I managed to pull off the helmet and start squirming loose, despite pain in my knee and the rest of me feeling like general crap.

"Still," I noted once I was loose and Tony was propping me up as we started making our way away from the mountains and remains of the suit, "not bad."


	6. Chapter 6

I don't know how long we walked through that desert, but it was perfect timing when a triad of US helicopters came flying out of nowhere. I, like the lunatic I am, even with my injured knee, got loose of Tony and ran excitedly down the sandy slope we were on top of. He ran after me, grinning and waving up at the choppers.

"They're here!" I roared over the rumbling of the propellers as they cruised back over us and landed. "We're goin' _home_!"

Home had never sounded so good.

I limped along towards the nearest helicopter as they started unloading, and two figures in Air Force desert khaki came racing towards me and Tony. I laughed when I saw one was Rhodes, and the other was my best friend in the world. Major Samantha Matsuo was a fellow MIT grad with me, ROTC and Air Force, and her own engineering degree had sometimes gotten me to joke around with her. Sam was no-nonsense, so I had to be the more lighthearted one despite our near-ten-year age difference. But I was nearly knocked off my feet when she suddenly grabbed me in a hug. Wow. That was a first.

It didn't last long before Sam stepped back and shot me a glare.

"Andy, if I have to come save your ass one more time…" she threatened, and I laughed even as Tony and Rhodes shared a bro-hug.

"Hey, you still owe _me_ remember? I was the one who rescued your grades, thanks very much!"

"You were also the one that hacked my radio to tell me you'd gotten your first-ever email," Sam retorted. Why did _everyone_ I care about know how to shut me up? But I shrugged, and Sam helped me along to one of the helicopters. Tony glanced at me worriedly as Rhodes walked him along to another one of the three, but I waved Tony off. I knew Rhodes was going to give him an earful.

"Sam…how long?" I asked tiredly once I was settled and a medic started right on my knee. She sat down across from me and took off her combat helmet, shaking out her cropped black hair before she leaned towards me. She _did_ look concerned, poor major.

"Three months," Sam replied eventually, and I gaped a little. It had only felt like a matter of _weeks_. "At least there was an explosion in the area that got us sweeping the area, otherwise we might not have found you two."

"Thank me later for the explosion, it's a great story," I cracked, and that got a smile out of her.

My knee got bandaged up, and I had to endure a full medical checkup. It was extremely annoying when the medic found the arc-reactor in my chest, and Sam nearly _freaked_, thinking it was a bomb. Well, no, it's not a bomb, and please don't touch it or pull it. I had to explain about the missile before she decided _not_ to radio Rhodes and tell him I was wired with some _bomb_.

And then came the most blessed release in the past three months: sleep. I didn't wake up for _days_, I think, apart from a few moments to eat, get loved thoroughly by Tony, and transferring from chopper to plane. When I was fully awake, I was back in my dark, discombobulated room lit by idled computer monitors and a few shafts of warm California sunshine sneaking under my shut blinds. I stretched luxuriously on the fluffy feather bed and soft mattress and sighed.

Until I was struck by my engineering genes.

Usually, I'm a hacker. When I get inspired, it's for codes that can rip open firewalls without tripping wires, ways to mess up foreign governments, that sort of thing. Well. Today, I was inspired by that wreck of a medieval armor Tony and I had built to get back here. What if, I thought, I could make it a little more…slender? Refined, perfect for infiltration in a physical sense? Weapons, armor, other toys…it was like I could see it getting sketched right in front of me.

Within a few seconds of getting struck by metaphorical lightning, I was up, clad in a comfy t-shirt and sweatpants, and bolting down to snatch up a mug of coffee. Then it was straight down to the garage, where I immediately started computerizing the plans starting to coalesce in my brain.

And it. Was. _Beautiful_.

After a few minutes of drawing, I had a three-dimensional representation up on the special projector, planning away what I wanted to put on in the way of weaponry and extras. I had the music going, nodding to Bon Jovi, but the guitar was interrupted by the beeping of code getting punched in. Judging by the swiftness of the typing, it was Tony, and I was proved right when I glanced up to see him looking at me, at his computers, in absolute confusion.

"…what are you doing in my garage?" he asked after I'd turned the music down. I shot him a smile as I jerked my head towards the plans.

"Working. What's it look like to you?" I ventured in reply as I returned to my fidgeting, dragging and dropping away like a pro. Tony dropped into his chair and watched me. Obviously, he was still working on waking up.

"You don't build stuff, Andy."

"Hence, _working_. The whole planning and designing scheme I do so well at."

Tony seemed to wake up a bit more as he examined my plans. I kept fidgeting at it, wondering how to put together a good HUD program without resorting to Jarvis, but I got jarred out of my thoughts when Tony spoke again.

"Just tell me you're gonna use it to pound on Stane for awhile…"

That was the first time I had ever heard Tony refer to Stane _as_ Stane. I glanced up at him and beamed.

"How'd you know?"

"Had some iffy dreams durin' my nap," he mumbled as he picked up some random tool and fingered it. I frowned a little, concerned. I waited, keeping my eyes on him before Tony finally said, "He denied it, you know."

A cold pit dropped into my stomach as my hope that Tony would keep his promise about getting back at Stane faded fast. If he'd called Stane, asked him about that night, and he believed Stane enough to doubt _me_…

I clenched my fists and jaw, fighting off tears as I replied, "You _know_ I'd _never_ lie about… about something like _that_…"

"I know, I know," Tony moaned a little, setting the tool aside and running a hand through his hair. I felt the but coming and turned back to my designs. I battled back the feeling of betrayal bubbling away, but I didn't stop the pain of loneliness ripping through me. I heard a smack of skin on skin.

"Andy, I swear I'm not doubting you, okay?" he pleaded. "I can't figure out how he could sound so damn _sincere_ about it and fake it at the same time."

"Because he's a _bastard_, that's why," I replied, not looking at him. I was already planning on being extremely forceful the next time I face Stane. No words, and no mercy. Tony sighed behind me before he scooted over towards me and put an arm over my shoulders.

"You do what you want to him," he murmured softly. "And you know what? I'll help. Whatever you need."

I glanced at him and managed a tiny smirk as I wiped my tears away. Thank God for sane big brothers.

"Maybe you can start by helping me build this thing?" I asked. "You're the engineer, after all."

Tony grinned and smooched my forehead.

"Then show me your plans."

This was how we passed the first few weeks at home: get up, head down to the garage, work on the suit. It was how we started putting our tight connections together again. Of course, since we stayed home, the press came up with their own stories about what had happened to Tony, why he wasn't coming out and talking, the works. Apart from the suit, I kept working on a few other projects that needed doing, especially if I wanted to not lean on Jarvis for keeping my new armor in prime condition.

But, one day, it was just too boring to stay inside. I was staring out at the ocean beyond the living room window, cradling my mug of coffee as the water started lighting from the sun coming up from behind the house. And that cool blue water just looked too good to leave alone today.

I bounded back upstairs and changed into – can you believe it – a two-piece swimsuit, flip-flops, and packed up a towel, cover-up, and iPod before heading back downstairs to find my sunglasses, then write a note to Tony, which I left on the kitchen table: _Down at the beach, curing cabin fever._

After writing that, I headed down to the garage, and even in my current getup I climbed onto my bike and roared out of the house. The nearest strip of beach wasn't too far away, so, soon enough, I was sprawled out on the warm sand, shades on and wired up as I let the sun pour heat onto me. Ah. Yes, this was just what I had needed...

I was grooving along to Sheryl Crow when I was attacked. I screeched as my eyes flew open from that Zen attitude I was starting to reach, only to see Tony hanging over me, tickling me like mad and laughing.

It was as if we were kids again.

I broke out into hysterics as Tony kept tickling me, no matter how much I tried to kick him off me. Of course, eventually, I squirmed free and, like the perfect little sister, stuck my tongue out at him tauntingly.

"Can't catch me!" I called out before racing down the sand. I heard Tony running after me, and I glanced back a couple times and laughed, even as I turned and started running back through the water. Of course, he caught up to me, and tackled me hard enough that I landed face-first into the grainy sand. I laughed even though I had sand in my mouth and nose and eyes, and I eventually rolled over and spat it out even as Tony embraced me tightly.

"Missed you, screwball," he sighed into my ear as I buried myself tight against him, grabbing his hand and squeezing. For the first time in a long time, I felt...whole. Complete. And it was because I'd finally gotten my brother back.

"Missed you, too," I murmured as I grinned faintly, resting my head on his shoulder. Tony returned my squeeze and just held me for the longest time. That was okay. I was actually about to fall asleep before Tony spoke up.

"Wanna go have some fun?"

"...how mean?" I asked as I shook off my contentment. Dammit.

"I happen to know of some...festivities that're planned for tonight," he laid out, smirking a little, "and no one's gonna mind us gate-crashing, I think."

I fought down a groan. I knew what he meant: the benefit thing for the firefighters' kids. But it also meant standing around and looking pretty and pretending not to be the annoying little sister who was half a criminal.

"Am I gonna hafta raid Pepper's closet again? I still owe her a new outfit..."

"I'll add it to her Christmas bonus," Tony excused. "But, yeah, you might hafta."

"How fancy we talkin'?"

"Enough."

I pulled a face at the idea of having to wear a dress. I _hated_ dresses and skirts, especially low-necked. No, it's not because I have a certain accessory in my sternum now.

"Can't we stay here?" I pleaded. "All day?"

"Guess we could," Tony replied with a shrug, but I saw a look in his eyes, one I'd slowly figured out meant he was thinking of a certain redhead assistant of his. Ah, so the flirting wasn't _just_ an idle fancy! Well. I wasn't going to stand in his way; I'm a secret romantic, after all.

"All right, then, lemme pack up..." I excused myself, reluctantly getting out of Tony's embrace and jogging to grab up my towel and iPod. Easy. Tony watched me, propped up on his elbows and a brow arched at me.

"Changed your mind awful fast..."

"Well, considering who _else_ is on the guest list..." I prodded, smirking broadly as I went to help him to his feet. Tony leveled me with a scowl.

"You know what people say about assuming, Andy..."

"If it has to do with my _brother_ getting soft for his _assistant_," I goaded with a wicked grin. Tony's scowl deepened, enough that I nearly laughed.

"I didn't say that!"

"You didn't have to!"

Tony groaned as I laughed. Yep, just like old times. Minus the constant flushing at the idea of being with a pretty girl other than his sister. I'm serious about this, because at MIT's homecoming, Tony had been so terrified to get a date that he asked me to go with him. Me, a little freshman, not to mention his kid sister!

"You're still a troublemaker, you know that?" he sighed in defeat. I shrugged.

"Always have been, always will be," I declared. "Maybe that's why Dad never liked me that much."

This is true, I mused as I cruised on my bike, side-by-side with Tony's R8, back to the house. After all, I was the second child, so, in the typical patriarchal attitude, Dad had ranked Tony far above me. Not to mention I was a girl of a second child, which put me fairly low on dad's opinion of me. It didn't get bad until after Tony had left for MIT, when I was left all alone in the same house as Howard Stark. Worst two years of my life; can I be blamed for hacking MIT's student database and enrolling myself, out of sheer desperation? If anything, Mom's death was the whole cause of our problems; if only she hadn't died, I wouldn't have been too badly alone when Tony had left for college.

I actually surprised myself when I went digging through my closet, because I found a dress. I'm serious; this is a major breakthrough to even have a pair of heels in my collection of clothes and shoes. It was just my style, too: high back, mid-height collar that hid my reactor nicely, and in dark red that would compliment my desert tan and dark hair and eyes. Of course, it took me awhile to find shoes, and, yet again, I had to raid Pepper's closet. She didn't mind, or I think she didn't; she was already gone by the time I snuck into her room and found a pair of black heels to wear. A few touches of makeup later, I was down in the living room, waiting for Tony. I worriedly ran a hand through my raggedly-cut hair before he jogged downstairs. As usual, Tony's hair was neatly brushed back, but still messy in the back, and he looked like a real classy sort in the tux.

"Andy!" he breathed in amazement – or maybe not, because he was reaching for something in his jacket. "I found somethin' for ya…."

I arched a brow at him as Tony pulled out a sealed envelope and presented it to me. I took it carefully, turning it over to check the address. Written on the front was _Andrea Stark_, and a pit dropped into my stomach as I recognized the handwriting: Dad's. A lump climbed into my throat, but I forced it back down before I shoved the letter back at Tony.

"Probably it's a laundry list of everything I ever did wrong," I noted dryly, refusing to register the tiny, faint hope that had risen in my gut. What if it _wasn't_, though? What if it was really the one thing I'd wished for my entire life from my father? Tony seemed to notice the slightly hopeful glance in my eyes, and he tried to push the letter back at me.

"I don't think he'd keep something like that…"

"Tony, the man hated me," I bit back, pressing the letter into his chest. "Why should I care what he has to say? I know you remember those looks he used to give me, the one that said I was stupid, wasn't smart enough…"

I stopped before I went off in a flurry and decided not to go to the party. Mercifully, he got the same drift and simply dropped the letter on a nearby table before heading down to the garage. I trailed after him, knowing full well that I wasn't going to be riding my bike in this getup. Of course, he picked the Audi, and, of course, we drove a wide margin above the speed limit. We were both grinning like idiots when we arrived outside the Disney concert hall, but my smile evaporated on the spot when I saw Stane. He, too, was in a tuxedo, paired with a scarf despite the relative balminess of the night, still as bald and massive as ever.

"If we walk right past him, I'm saying hello, very noisily," I murmured to Tony as we strode up the red carpet, ignoring the flashing cameras and pressing questions from the reporters to either side. "Don't try to stop me."

"Won't bother," Tony replied, voice equally low. "Unless we just wanna find a back way, avoid all the press…"

"Man, I'm itchin', though," I answered, and just in time; Obadiah Stane had just spotted us, and he was making his way down towards us. I started walking for the stairs up into the hall, forcing a small smile onto my face as we started drawing even. Stane opened his arms wide in welcome, and a smile on his face. I kept my face unresponsive as I got into his reach.

"Andy!" Stane exclaimed in surprise. "My dear, you look –"

I didn't let him finish. I clenched my fist and slammed my knuckles into Stane's nose, and I breezed on past him, into the hall. Once I was safely inside, I allowed myself a self-gratifying smile. Ah. That had felt so good. Tony came up next to me, giving me a wink as he slipped his arm through mine, walking me in the rest of the way. Of course, we ended up splitting up once we got to the nexus of the gathering: Tony made his way to the bar, and I found a quiet corner to hide in. Of course, as is my luck, someone did find me.

"Miss Stark?" a voice asked behind me, and I turned from my quiet study of a far wall and scanning for good exits points. I blinked in surprise when I saw a clean-cut, smartly dressed young man in Air Force blues. As usual when I run into military types, I glanced for the name tag, but there wasn't one. A glance to the shoulder informed me exactly of just who it was I was talking to.

"Lieutenant Moreau, from the humvee, right?" I asked in surprise, but the good kind. Here I was, thinking he'd been dead...and he wasn't. He'd pulled through, just like me and Tony, and, maybe a bit more than us, had gotten out in one piece. Moreau shot me a small, sincere grin as he nodded confirmation.

"Yep, that's me, though I didn't think you'd remember," he noted, settling in to lean next to me. I propped my elbows on my end of the bar and made a check on Tony; he was cutting across the dance floor, away from the bar, and towards a certain redhead in a near-backless blue dress. I smirked to myself before glancing at Moreau again.

"Despite five minutes talking, I don't think we ever got rightly introduced," I commented before offering Moreau my hand. "Andrea Jacqueline Stark; call me Andy."

"Even if your name's pretty?" Moreau flattered me as he took my hand and shook gently. "Second Lieutenant James Moreau. Everyone calls me Jimmy, though."

I flushed a little at Moreau's – _Jimmy's_ – praise as he let go of my hand before motioning to the bar and asked, "So can I get you a drink? Or are you more the dancing type?"

"How about the 'stay at home and never get out much' type?" I offered with a chuckle, and my sarcastic crack was fully appreciated. We traded a bit of small talk – barely touching on the events of Afghanistan – before Jimmy actually glanced over at Tony and Pepper, who were now both walking outside to a balcony. Great. Maybe Tony'd man up and admit his crush on her.

"Y'know," Jimmy noted once they'd slipped away, "I dunno if you remember, but, uh...you sorta promised to grab a bite with me, if we met up again..."

"I do remember that," I replied, managing a smile. Sure, it was something I'd subconsciously blamed Tony for ruining, but now that Jimmy was actually alive, that meant Tony'd zeroed out that particular bitterness. I try not to hold grudges long, unless, of course, it's Stane. "So, how about we bail and go someplace quieter, yeah? You'll have to drive."

The grin Jimmy gave me could've lit the whole room, and I felt like a bad girl by heading back out less than an hour after arriving without telling Tony. But I was allowed; it was my first date, after all, and I wasn't going to let my sometimes-overprotective big brother ruin it.


	7. Chapter 7

It was nearly eleven at night when Jimmy got me back home. The house was dark as we drove up, meaning neither Tony or Pepper were back yet; maybe they were dancing the night away, as my inner romantic hoped and prayed. After all, I'd just gotten back from a good dinner with Jimmy, followed by a no-holds-barred action flick, which is one of my personal favorite types. I easily swung out of his truck, giving him a wave as I walked up to the front door. The door unlocked itself, lights came on, and I was greeted by Jarvis, saying, "Good evening, Miss Stark. I trust you had a pleasant evening?"

"Absolutely fabulous, Jarvy," I informed him as I headed upstairs to my room to get out of my dress and heels. "Heard anything from Tony, or Pepper, about getting back?"

"Nothing, Miss Stark."

"All right then, the night is still young...prep up the mark two, please, and upload Mina, thank you Jarvy..."

I swore I heard him grumbling under his breath; Jarvis wasn't particularly fond of the new addition to the mansion's mainframe, but I wasn't particularly fond of him being close to my personal data, so I'd done the one thing that made sense: I designed my own AI. Mina's name was, like Jarvis', an acronym; while Jarvy was, in full, Just A Really Very Intelligent Servant – way to go, Tony, on finding a way to put words together to somehow make sense – Mina was short for Mental Imaging Network Artificial. Maybe mine's a little more functional than Tony's, but, hey, I tried. And, as it turned out, Mina was a few times faster and smarter than Jarvy.

I slid into my room to get out of my dress, and then pulled on leggings, long-sleeve shirt, and slipper socks before careening down to the garage. Waiting for me was a large set of intelligent robots, and I quickly sprang onto the platform Tony and I had specially figured out for when we were ready for the live tests. I made sure to stay stock-still as I was encased in the silvery metal armor, keeping my eyes shut so that I didn't feel claustrophobic when the helmet was clamped into place. It was only when I saw the reddish flicker through my eyelids that I reopened my eyes, and the world was wide open to me.

"Mental Imaging Network Artificial downloaded," stated a cool recording of Keira Knightley's voice in my ears, before I heard a faint chuckle. "Andy, I'm surprised at you. Going at it this late?"

"What can I say, I get restless when I go to parties I'm not excited to be at," I replied, grinning as Mina kept chuckling. "All right, run the moving surface test or whatever, pick up a few diagnostics, and let's roll."

"Will do," Mina agreed, and I remained still, letting the weight of the armor settle over my shoulders as all the moving plates shifted, clicking and hissing before Mina finished running the test and flashed me a confirmation. "Andy, just what _are_ you planning?"

"You know what they say, Mina," I replied as I crouched a little, eyeing the ramp that led up to the surface. "Sometimes you gotta run before you can walk. Rockets, on five."

"I don't think this is a good idea..." Mina moaned as she brought up the flight interface anyway, but by then it was too late. I'd started sprinting, full-tilt, towards the ramp, arms pumping at my side as I counted up from one. Two, and I was drawing away from the work area. Four, and I was nearly to the door.

"Five!"

I leaned forward, snapping my arms against my sides with my palms angled to my feet. There was a roar from the region of my feet, and I couldn't help but let out a mild shriek of surprise as I _flew_, curving up the ramp and shooting skyward. My stomach roiled in shock as I panicked a little, struggling to compensate for all the power pushing me upright, circling over the house before I leveled out, my breath coming in sharp gasps as my panic eventually ebbed back. The heads-up display showed a standard pilot's setup, with the horizon lock and scrolling scale to measure the angle I was flying at. Right now, thankfully, it read zero.

"Andy, please tell me you're still alive," Mina spoke up finally, jarring me awake and managing a nod. Of course, my minor loss of concentration made me drop a few feet, and I yelped until I straightened again, cruising steadily along the coast, but going relatively slowly. See, one of my big fears is flying, which is why I drive or take a train everywhere I needed to go, so me, in the air, pretty much all by myself, was terrifying. But as I flew in silence, my fears very slowly bled away. I looked around, realizing that I was in the clouds, and it actually wasn't that bad. Just for grins, I laid on speed, and I whooped in delight as I shot forward, and I was bold enough to try some looping, corkscrewing, and other fighter patterns I'd seen at air shows, on television, all that jazz. It was the most amazing thing _ever_.

I was almost to the border before I turned back, going a little bit faster than I already had been. Of course, that was about the time when I heard a ringing in my ear; the Bluetooth enhancer that Tony insisted on had picked up my cell phone, all the way back home.

"It's Tony," Mina informed me briskly as she brought up the ID. "Shall I put in a course for home, then?"

"Nah," I replied, smirking a little. "Head for the Disney concert hall; and put him through, will ya?"

Of course, the shift from manual to autopilot freaked me out, and I again caused a sudden dip before Mina took over, leveling out slightly, though she was wobbly; she kept shifting and adjusting position, even as she put Tony's call through.

"Andy, where are you?" he asked me before I could offer a proper hello. Mina dipped again, and I fought back a screech so I could answer.

"Tony, now's not the best time," I moaned as my stomach started lurching again. "Oh, God, I must be _insane_..." His end was dead silent for a few seconds, allowing Mina to get the suit a little more in hand before he replied so suddenly I started dropping again.

"I _thought_ you were going to wait for me to spot you!" he complained, and I managed a snort as Mina recovered, flying straight as the lights of Los Angeles because more and wider.

"Well, too bad!" I managed to laugh as I blinked the autopilot off. Thankfully, the transition was instantaneous, and I stayed still as I kept cruising. Note to self: don't let Mina fly. "Tell me you're still at the benefit, I wanna buzz and scare the crap out of some reporters."

"Yeah, I am," he groaned a little; it sounded like his night hadn't gone as well as mine had. "Though if anymore of those reporters give me a funny look or ask me another question, I'm getting out of here."

"So you wanna have me scare them off?" I asked as I did a very bold loop-the-loop, and I was pleasantly surprised that my stomach didn't squirm as badly. Besides, I didn't want to gate-crash just to scare the reporters. This suit, this brilliant invention I was currently encased in, wasn't just my work; it was Tony's, too, and that made it something to share with him by default. And that made this project special.

"Yeah," Tony replied, and I could hear the mischievous grin on his face. "Yeah, stop by. Maybe I'll pretend to like the press until you arrive."

I had to laugh; Tony before the cave wouldn't have even called to ask after me. This was one of the better developments I'd heard since that attack. The line closed, and I wove among the skyscrapers of downtown LA before I spotted – or, rather, Mina spotted and I noticed – the flashing spotlights and red carpet outside the hall. I grinned a little as I eased vertical, having Mina curb the power so I descended easily until I was about fifteen feet above the ground, still out of sight, but some people, with cameras, were starting to notice.

"Kill power," I declared, and I dropped like a stone the rest of the way. I landed in a thundering crouch, and the concrete split from the force under my feet. I glanced up when I saw the press, dead silent for the first time ever since I'd moved in with Tony and faces pasty white for all of fifteen seconds before the questions started roiling, not to me, but to the smirking Tony, who turned to wink at me as I straightened and walked over to him, offering a nod.

"I think it works splendidly," I remarked, and I liked the way the speaker transformed my voice, so it didn't sound like me. "What do you think?"

Tony wasn't able to reply, because the press were screaming questions at him, and he tried to wave them into quiet so he could speak to me. But I noticed someone else was watching, his smile gone, his gaze dark and calculating as he stroked his chin. Sorry, Stane; you're not getting your hands on this.

"I agree," Tony eventually said, once the hubbub of the reporters had quieted in quiet awe. "But we might need some finishing touches." The valet brought up Tony's car, and I walked him to it before he turned back to the press, calling out, "We'll send out the invites for the conference when we've got the final testing complete."

I swallowed down a snort and snapped him a smart salute. Like we'd ever give this up for the various factions of the world stage to blow themselves and each other up with. I turned once Tony was settled in the driver's seat, closing the door before turning to glare at Stane. I knew what he saw: a threatening, menacing visor, glowing faintly red from an inch-wide slit that acted as my exterior eyes. I saw him shudder involuntarily, and I grinned fiercely in private before I stuck up both hands in a rude gesture before taking off. Oh, the look on his face had been priceless.

I had Mina call Tony before I crowed, "Did you see the look on his face? Ha, the bastard never saw this coming!"

Tony laughed a little with me, and it felt so good to share this moment with him.

"Now, just to give him a good excuse to keep his hands off you and the armor."

"Aw, you'd do that?" I asked, half-jokingly. The other half was in warm pleasure; he was sticking up for me again. "Well, just don't tell him I went back to DC. That'd really screw my cover."

"Trust me, I'll play it smart," Tony assured me as I rolled around in the air. The feeling of freedom and mobility was almost intoxicating; not even Mom had helped me feel this good about life before. Of course, as it is with my mind's functions, thinking about Mom got me to think about Dad, and that letter. I frowned a little, wondering what it contained. Was it what I figured it would be, one last dig against me and everything I'd done wrong? Or was it the one thing he'd never given me: love? But no matter what was in there, I knew one thing: I could never forgive Howard Stark for the way he treated me for twelve years.

I eventually closed the cell line as I unconsciously raced Tony back home. Of course, I easily cruised down the ramp and righted myself on the ground before Tony arrived, and I sighed before prying my helmet off. I was suddenly struck by a rush of emotion, so much that I wanted to cry. So much had happened in just one night. I'd gone on my first date. I'd realized that Tony and I had suddenly grown up, and we couldn't go back in time and fix things that we should have fixed. We'd missed so much of what had happened to us that when I came here I didn't know my own brother.

I wanted to blame him. Blame Dad for everything wrong, for holding me back and putting me down and separating me from Tony. But it wasn't his fault. It was _mine_; I hadn't stepped up to prove him wrong, to run to Tony as soon as I possibly could. Everything wrong between Tony and me was because of me.

And I felt like crap for about five minutes before the Audi roared into the garage behind me. I turned to see Tony stepping out, a goofy smile plastered on his face, and I saw in his eyes just how proud of me, his kid sister, he was. And I couldn't help it; I bounded toward him, suddenly gone from depressed to bubbly and excited. Maybe I'm bipolar.

"Did you see me?" I asked, nearly bouncing off the floor, hungry for the praise Dad had starved me of. "I was _flying_, oh, man, it was so _amazing_!"

"Proud of ya, Andy," he told me fondly as he reached to rub at my self-cut hair, and I felt something inside me glow as he continued, "Yes, I mean that, I'm trying to lose the insensitive jerk status."

Tony gave me a proud smirk, and I couldn't stop myself. I threw my arms around him, still armored up, and hugged him tight. Something inside me was so, so happy that the both of us were working so hard to get back what we had. If only Mom hadn't died, I mentally sighed as Tony fiercely returned my embrace. If only Dad had loved me, too. All the bad stuff wouldn't have happened: no Obi, no separation, or at least a less painful one.

Then again, I mused, it was only the two of us now. Maybe that was how it was supposed to be.

We hugged on each other for a long time, before I smirked to myself and snickered faintly, "I can't _wait_ for you to make one, bro. Bet you'll scream when you fly for the first time."

"Bet _not_," he shot back with a wink and a smile before he turned to the computers at the workstation as I stepped onto the platform so the house robots could get me out of the suit. "Maybe I should, if the formula works..."

"Remember, stealth is _my_ forte," I informed him as I stepped off the platform, a spring in my step because I was about ninety pounds lighter as I crossed to the kitchenette and turned on the late-night news. But the spring faded when I saw exactly where the reporter was: Afghanistan. I paid closer attention now: a town called Gulmira, attacked by a terrorist group called the Ten Rings. An ice cube dropped down the back of my throat and down my spine when I saw our old friend the leader of the terrorists I'd thought were exterminated when Tony and I had escaped. He'd survived with nothing more than a roasted face.

"Tony! Get a look at this!" I called out as I turned up the volume. I heard Tony turn in his chair, and after a few seconds of watching intently he swore under his breath.

"Thought we'd wiped them out..."

"So did I," I replied as the camera view shifted to some combat action in Gulmira, watching Ten Rings goons gun down innocent families. I itched to get my suit back on, get out there and beat their collective face in. But after that initial idea, I got one better. After all, stealth was my forte, wasn't it? I glanced ceiling-ward, like I usually did when talking to Jarvis.

"Jarvy, get me when it's midnight out there, and paint my suit black. Matte, night-black."

Tony got to his feet and offered me a shoulder squeeze before I went up to my room, powering up my computers. I had to do this on my own, and I wasn't going to leave a one of them standing. I skillfully hacked the satellite feeds above Gulmira, getting aerial recon images and maps of the terrain around the town that I uploaded to Mina. All the while, I kept one screen on a news site, following all the latest reports coming from Gulmira.

I didn't sleep. I was too angry to sleep. These guys had to figure out that they couldn't walk out and take out anyone they wanted. I was going to help them along.

Time passed quickly as I researched and prepped, and the sun was already glimmering through my blinds when Jarvis informed me of the time in Afghanistan, and that my suit was ready when I was. I made sure to thank him for the trouble before heading back downstairs, ignoring the envelope lying on a side table as I turned to drop down to the garage. Tony had left, but the door featured a note taped to the front, bearing three simple phrases: _Good luck, be careful, love you_. I forced a painful swallow as I tugged the note free and kissed it before putting it in my pocket. That was all I needed to know.

I stepped onto the platform again, ramrod straight as the black plates and gleaming inner mechanisms descended. I let the plates entirely lock into place and engage before I smacked my visor down and had the HUD flash to life.

I ran a short distance before firing up the rockets and sailing out, turning to fly over the Pacific. I was going to finish this once and for all.


	8. Chapter 8

I was stretched out on a rocky expanse above Gulmira, the midnight-blue sky sparkling with stars above me as I looked over the town. There were no signs of fighting tonight, and I had a good feeling that the terrorists were also getting some well-deserved sleep. At least, well-deserved in their minds.

"What sorts of ammo you think they have, Mina?" I breathed under my visor as I swept my gaze across the town for the umpteenth time. Mina adjusted the zoom as she looked wherever I was pointing the sensors, and I swore I could hear her frown when I drifted over a corner to the left of my hiding spot. "Don't tell me they've got something big over there, I don't want to be limping home…"

"Then you're not going to like what I think I'm picking up over there," Mina informed me coolly. One of the "neat tricks" Mina could do was sense circuitry in certain pieces of equipment, and, based on the kind of data output she read, she could determine what the piece in question was. In this case, it was extremely bad news. "I have at least one Soviet-era tank, and I do believe I'm picking up at least one Jericho missile platform."

The Soviet tank wasn't an issue. The Jerichos were. I swore under my breath as I figured out what this meant: someone within the company was double-dealing and sending these jerkwads the one thing they wanted for Christmas.

"I hope you're thinking what I'm thinking, Mina," I groaned once I processed the fact and started getting to my feet. "And that it means lighting up the sky real bright."

"You read my mind," Mina laughed darkly, and I smirked myself before leaping off the cliff, gliding down silently before Mina kicked in the rockets, and I was cruising a few feet above the ground towards the missile site. The roar was low enough to the ground that anyone awoken by my flight would just think it was a truck or van mowing by, and the lights from my rockets could have been said truck or van going in reverse.

I dropped into a crouch behind a stack of – you guessed it – Stark Industries ammunition as Mina turned off the rockets, and I was gazing up at a set of fresh-off-the-assembly-line Jericho missiles, the tan desert color scheme not even dusty, they were so new. I shook my head a little as I slid closer to the rockets, staying in my crouch before I raised my hands. The repulsors embedded in my palms – primary function being flight stability – whined threateningly before twin beams of gold light shot into the rockets. I heard the explosion coming and cut off the blast, springing into the air before the ground below flashed in the fiery glow of my sabotage. I wheeled back around, and this time I spotted some of those Ten Rings thugs running for the blast zone, yelling at each other in Arabic. Time for some revenge.

I dropped down, right where I'd been not two seconds ago, and when the nearest one opened fire with his machine gun I charged and swung. My fist collided into his shoulder, and I heard a sickening crack before he sailed three feet away and landed on the sand, a whimpering heap. The rest I handled with blasts from my palms. And then I got into some trouble. That tank, the Soviet-era junk-pile that I had stupidly, _stupidly_ underestimated, was shooting these huge rounds from its main cannon. Yeah, not fun. Sadly, it'd even gotten _upgraded_ so no matter how quickly I dodged, it was always by _that_ much! Sometimes, I really hated my life.

It had to have been pure luck that even after it managed to scrape my knee, I'd jumped myself into the air and let loose with the most powerful reactor-based attack: a uni-beam blast. In short, it was a super-large repulsor shot that came directly from the reactor. And it was a relief to watch that golden flare of energy smash into that tank and blow it into hundreds of little tiny pieces. After that fun, it was just a simple matter of clean up. I tied up any still-alive Ten Rings goons – and just guess who I found. It was one of mine and Tony's old friends from the caves, our original "business" partner who asked us to build a Jericho in the first place. It was all too satisfying to hogtie him outside his tent, his black eyes staring up at me in terror.

"Think of it this way," I breathed once I'd finished tying him up. "It's an eye for an eye."

It was only when I was sure I had cleared out the town that I took off, sailing away and dodging the Air Force patrol nearby. Good thinking I installed a signal-dampener, so I could easily remain undetected by radar, and it wasn't until I was safely out of Afghani airspace that I had Mina access my music and run _Thunderstruck_, AC/DC, as I flew home.

Sadly, it was only when I was about to land on the roof that I realized my mission wasn't entirely a success. The first bad thing that happened was, when I turned my rockets off a few inches from the roof, the surface wasn't strong enough to hold my weight. Cue a giant hole in not just the roof, but also the living room floor. I think I heard Pepper yelp in surprise as I crashed through the grand piano, and I barely, _barely_ avoided landing on one of Tony's cars in the garage. I stayed put for a few moments, regaining my breath before I groaned and got to my feet. The knee I'd originally hurt during the mark one escape was _not_ in good shape anymore, and I was forced to stagger towards the sofa, where Tony had been a few moments before I'd literally crashed his hanging-out time.

"That was fun," I panted sarcastically once I'd gotten my helmet off and was working on extricating the rest of myself from the suit. "I don't think I wanna do it again."

"Good," Tony noted, with equal sarcasm as he helped me out of the suit. I managed to get most of the plates off myself, thanks to a mess of slip-catches I'd designed into the suit so I could get out easily, but winced and bit back a moan as I tried prying my knee free. Y'know, the one that had gotten grazed by that Soviet tank? Well, it wasn't a graze; there was a nice big, bloody hole right above my kneecap. Not pretty. And it didn't help that Pepper's voice soon echoed from the door into the garage.

"Andy? Tony!"

"There's things I've done you'd never catch me doing, Pepper, I swear," I pleaded with an innocent look, even as Tony turned the same wide-eyed expression on her.

"And, let's face it, you've caught _me_ doing worse, so this's nothing."

"Are those _bullet holes_?"

"Uh, most, I think," I noted as I looked over my armor. "Lessee, bullets, maybe a grenade...and that anti-infantry round from a tank..."

I grimaced as my knee finally squirmed loose, and I heard a clatter of something dropping on a raised surface before the clicking of Pepper's heels retreated back upstairs. I hope she was going for big bandages and old-fashioned hydrogen peroxide. Blood was welling out of my wound, and I futilely dabbed at it with my hand before I shot Tony a look.

"When's the wedding?" I asked tauntingly. "You _know_ I'm maid of honor..."

I would've laughed at the resulting blush if Tony hadn't knelt down nearby and hefted my injured leg into better reach. Yeowch. Much pain.

"Maybe we reinforce that part of the armor," he noted while he started pulling off his shirt, "make sure this doesn't happen again."

I was touched, even when he tied off his shirt around my knee as an impromptu bandage. The pressure made my leg ache, but I didn't notice, because I now had a full view of Tony's chest – and, of course, his arc-reactor. Very gingerly, I fingered my own reactor, biting faintly on my lip.

My fault. These things were _my_ fault. I'd tried to protect him, and failed; he'd ended up being the one keeping me safe while I was comatose when it should've been the other way around. I was still stewing when Pepper returned with sterile white bandages and a big bottle of peroxide, and I barely noticed the stinging once Tony's shirt was off my knee. It was only after Pepper had gotten my knee wrapped up that she decided to get the both of us coffee, and Tony noticed my unconscious fingering of a certain life-ensuring device.

"What?" he asked in concern, gaze jumping to the blue circle in my chest. "Somethin' wrong? Not falling apart?"

"No, no, nothin's wrong," I mumbled, eyes fixed on Tony's chest instead of his eyes. "Just...these are...are _my_ fault. I thought...if I gave myself up, you'd get out...been okay. But..."

I swallowed and glanced away, but Tony crouched next to me and gently put his hand on my cheek. I only had to take one look at him before I saw that protective glance that I'd come to love in that cave. It meant that I really was looking at my brother, who'd do anything to keep me from getting hurt.

"Don't beat yourself up over it," he soothed quietly. "It's _not_ your fault. It would've happened if you were there or not. I knew that model and ran the numbers right there. Blast radius's so big, you couldn't have stopped it."

"Should've tried harder," I choked out, reaching up to grab Tony's hand tightly.

"And where'd you be? Dead? Nuh uh. That would've been worse."

"Selfish jerk," I laughed weakly, even as I pulled him into a hug. Thing is, I didn't really mean that. He's my brother; he was supposed to be a selfish jerk when it came to me. I knew I was gonna hate him for protecting me, but he'd do it anyway. That'd never change; nothing was going to change ever again. I felt him nestle his chin against my shoulder, and I softly murmured into his ear, "I love you, Tony. Always will."

He squeezed me gently, cheek resting on my shoulder joint. I could feel his smile.

"Love you, too, Andy."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N**: Hey all! Thanks for all the faves/alerts/reviews! Makes me happy. Now, I must warn the next chapter of this will be a little later than usual next week (still working on it...) as well as stuff going on in real life. But, in case everyone was wondering, _yes_, this _will_ have an _Iron Man 2_ remix sequel. And, in its ways, it _will_ be better than the movie itself. Thanks for reading, and hang on for the end!

* * *

Over the next couple of days, Tony and I worked on closing out a few last tests on my armor. Mostly, it was basic stuff that had been field-tested with my trip to Gulmira: targeting, flight, maneuverability, that sort of thing. Of course, that trip brought some very prying gazes, and I'd had to explain what I'd done to a very cold-angry Rhodey. There must be something with men and giant metal toys, because when I told him about the suit, his anger was gone like _that_. Like any good friend, Tony offered to let Rhodey in on the project, but, like the wise lieutenant colonel he is, he turned us down with a brisk, "No, no, less I know about it, the better."

There was only one test that met us with total, absolute failure, and I fully blamed Tony for getting the idea in the first place. See, there's a record for the maximum flight ceiling of a fixed-wing aircraft, which is currently held by the US Air Force's SR-71 Blackbird. Tony's brilliant plan was to see if the suit could break that record. My attempted argument was that the suit didn't _have_ wings, so there was no way we _could_ break the record. Besides, wasn't it more fun to set our own records?

Tony told me to stop being so stubborn about it and go ahead and do it. _Sigh_. So I did. When I'd nearly crashed into the garage again, I had an ice pack on my head and my bad knee doubly bandaged as I grumbled, "What mathematical calculation of probability is there accounting for _ice buildup_ for that thing?"

Guess what. There wasn't. So we did the only other thing that made sense: we rebuilt the suit. Goodbye, mark two; hello, mark _three_. To stop any icing, I'd found some metal scraps left over from some satellite project, a gold-titanium alloy that was very shiny and bright. To counter that – and probably to Jarvis' relief – I ordered my newest suit to be mostly painted black and scuffed to a matte finish. There was only one tiny cosmetic detail I insisted on: a thin gold trinity knot, pained onto the upper armplates. Every hero or heroine has to have a code name, right? So mine was going to be after my failed hacking interface: Trinity. I thought it was pretty good, hence my smile as I looked over the finished project before letting Jarvy take it off to storage.

"I still think you need to get one of your own, bro," I informed Tony as I crashed on the sofa, munching on an apple I'd peeled while waiting for Jarvy to finish putting the plates together. "But you're still forbidden from stealth. You're...what's the word? Unsubtle?"

"You _just_ figured that out?" he snickered in reply, but I heard him settle in his chair and start working at the computers There was Tony for ya; once challenged, he doesn't let it go. At all. I snorted a little though as I sat up, glancing at him.

"I'm smarter than I look, thanks!" I commented once I'd swallowed and gotten up to throw away my apple core. No, I hadn't told him about the Jerichos; I knew he was going to be pissed off, so I knew I had to step carefully. Besides, I'd been doing some research into the Stark Industries financials; a certain someone was oddly paying out more to anonymous buyers. Since they were unlisted, the board wouldn't care. But I cared, and the only way I was going to confirm my suspicions was if Tony let me into his office and at his work computer. That would only happen if he knew what I was up to, so I took a deep breath and turned to face him, leaning on the counter gently with my arms crossed.

"I saw Jerichos out there," I began. "Ten Rings had 'em. If two and two make four, someone's double-dealing. You're not. I don't think the board even _cares_ so long as we make a profit."

I didn't continue; the look on Tony's face told me everything I needed to know. He was shocked and angered by this new development, and I saw his cheerful mood snap instantly into cold anger the likes of which required much more natural surroundings. As in mountains and caves.

"The bastards didn't need to kidnap us, after all."

"Oh, they were recent purchases," I commented, very sarcastic. "Not a single scratch until they exploded in Gulmira. Those were recent shipments, and whoever sent them more than likely ordered your hit. They thought I was Pepper, so I think they were just confused."

It was so obvious to me now. Of _course_ my prime suspect would have done something so underhanded while having the power to stop anyone who poked their noses in too far. It was obvious to Tony, it seemed, because he stormed right back for the computers and went straight to work. I decided to use this as my confirmation as I dug into a pile of stuff I kept downstairs, finding a small black flashdrive. But this was no _ordinary_ flashdrive; it was a self-operating search-and-hack device. It could go into a network, find anything remotely suspicious, copy and download, and store it for later perusal. I pocketed it before heading towards my bike, grabbing the keys off the rack.

"Hope you don't mind I'm wandering into the office," I informed him coolly as I straddled my bike. "Going to do some research before we go crusading."

"Nah, go ahead," Tony replied, and I put my keys into the ignition. Suddenly, he added, "Did you look at the letter from Dad? I, ah, stole a peek...you might wanna read it."

I felt my face instantly shut down at the first syllable of _letter_.

"I told you," I managed to growl, "I'm not _interested_ in what he has to say. He treated me like I was less worthy than you for twelve years; that's why I didn't cry at the funeral. He didn't give a _damn_ about me."

I cranked the keys, getting my bike to roar to life, but I didn't leave. The part of me that wanted to know she'd been loved by her father begged to see the letter, just to see if that's what it held. But I couldn't be distracted. Not right now. There was _only_ stopping Stane, _only_ keeping him from hurting anyone ever again. But I think Tony was in favor of the other part of me, because he got up and called over the rumbling engine, "He didn't say anything like that, Andy! Just trust me, okay? You've got 'til now!"

I didn't look at him, but I heard him bound away upstairs to get it. I didn't wait for him; I kicked up the stand and roared out of the garage. I didn't even allow myself to think until I'd reached the plant, walked into the office building and coldly told the receptionist my name so she didn't call in the police. I went all the way up to Tony's office and slipped inside, closing the double doors behind me. It was a matter of seconds to cross to the desk, sit down, and power up. I gave my drive a good-luck kiss before plugging in and watched it go.

It worked brilliantly. In a matter of seconds, I soon had reams of information: sales receipts, order requests, and schematics for a project dubbed _Sector 16_. The most intriguing of the mess was a video recorded by the Ten Rings. I listened in horror as the terrorists' leader – I recognized his voice, despite the Arabic – declared his awareness of Tony's identity and the group's further capture of "his assistant Miss Potts", which meant me. And then he said one thing that really got my blood to run cold: "The price to kill Tony Stark has just gone up."

"Obi Bouldy, what've you been up to...?" I breathed softly as I copied the video, receipts, and Sector 16 schematics onto the drive. My heart started racing as I tapped in a few codes to hurry the process, while my mind reeled; I had been right. Stane had ordered Tony's hit, sold them the missiles, everything. I would've been a bonus. Now that I knew the truth, I couldn't be found here. If I was found, and caught copying all this material, not only would I be arrested without bail, but Stane would find a way to cover everything up. I couldn't let that happen.

Remember how I said my luck had run out? The proof walked into Tony's office about fifty percent into the download. _Shit_.

"Andy!" Obadiah Stane exclaimed in genuine surprise – and, worse, pleasure. "I didn't expect to see you here, how've you been?"

"_Don't_," I growled as I glared at him, "talk to me as if you know me. You don't know a thing about me. And I _remember_ that night, thanks so _very_ much."

I'll be damned if the man didn't look _hurt_ as he crossed to Tony's scotch supply and poured himself some. I spared a glance at the computer, and made sure to slip the day's paper over my drive. I didn't want him to find out what I'd been up to, because I'd end up worse off than I had been all those years ago.

"You know I didn't want to hurt you, Andy," Stane pleaded gently after he'd taken a sip of his drink, trying to look innocently at me over the rim of his glass. Sorry, Obi, Tony does a better fake-innocent look than you. "Besides, I always thought of you and Tony as my surrogate children!"

"Oh, so you'd rape your own daughter?" I spat in barely-contained rage, and the pretend hurt in Stane's eyes intensified. "You'd dump your thirteen-year-old daughter, raped and half-naked, onto a dirty street? I hope you're _happy_ with what you did, not just to me, but to what me and Tony had."

He looked on the verge of talking, but I stood up from the chair and glared at him before adding, "And don't you _dare_ give me the 'yes of _course_ I care despite everything' bull. I'm not in the mood."

Stane looked flabbergasted at my reaction, and it was good timing. The download completed, and I snatched the drive via the paper before throwing him the bird and marching out. I barely heard his weak "Take care" as the door swung shut. Once it was, I _bolted_ out of there, sliding down stair rails and ignoring shouts of surprise as I returned to the ground floor. I wasn't stopping for _anything_, not until I got on my bike and got home.

He was behind it all. And I had known he was behind it. Not to mention he probably knew now that _I_ knew, meaning I'd have to move, fast, _now_.

I roared at top speed all the way back to Malibu, and I practically leaped off my bike despite all of Tony's surprised outbursts. I tuned him out, plugging in my drive and bringing up all the files I'd just semi-legally stolen from the Stark Industries mainframe. Tony immediately fell silent, with wide eyes, as he took in all the information I'd collected. I heaved a few deep breaths before I finally felt protected enough to talk.

"It was Stane," I intoned carefully. "Him all along. He tried to kill us, double-dealt to those bastards, _everything_."

The piece of metal Tony had been holding as part of his work on his own suit bent ominously. He was stiff as a board, and I saw anger flashing all over his face before he managed to speak.

"Then I don't know if I'll be finished in time."

"I'll go," I told him, putting my hand on his shoulder. "I'll distract him long enough so you can finish, and Pepper can call those government agents that keep wanting to talk to us, and for Rhodes to clear out the damn sky."

I headed for the platform to start suiting up, but I stopped a few steps away from the black square. On a nearby table sat that ominous white envelope, addressed to Andrea Stark, from Howard. I clenched my jaw while simultaneously fighting down a lump in my throat. Would it hold love…or just more of the same put-downs? I managed a swallow, not shifting my gaze at all.

"Does it say he loves me?"

"You'll hafta read it for yourself," Tony replied, though I noticed he was watching the first of his new schematics coming through nearby, which were claiming his attention at the present. "But I think it might."

Even before he'd finished saying it, I'd gotten the letter in my hands, fingering it gently. To spite Dad for the rest of my life…or give him one last chance?

I opened it.

_My dear Andrea,_ it began in Dad's scratchy handwriting,

_For twelve years I have watched you compete with Anthony for my favor. It was never more apparent than today, at your brother's graduation from MIT, and the pain in your eyes as I ignored your ingenious idea never cut me so deeply. _

_I know you must hate me for never showing you the affection I showed your brother. For never allowing you time with me, even after so many times that your mother, before she died, tried to make me realize just how smart and clever you were. I knew it. And, in fact, I loved you for it._

_Andrea, you are as smart as your brother, as witty as your mother, and, dare I make the comparison, as street smart as me. Every time Maria spoke to me about you, I was amazed, astounded, even, at how hard you pushed yourself. No matter what I taught Anthony, you learned it either inherently, or on your own. You were far quicker than any training I could have given you._

_My only regret is that I never told you all of this before. But I will make amends to you, as best I can._

_Enclosed is a disbursal, in your name, for exactly one-half of the family fortune. I also leave you our family estate in Long Island; no one ever learned its secrets as well as you did, my darling girl. And, in closing, I give you half-interest in the shares of Stark Industries; this will make you and Anthony co-CEOs. I know of no better hands to leave the family legacy to._

_In the hope you can forgive me, Andrea, and with all my love,_

_Your father._

Something inside me bubbled and swelled as I read those words. Dad really _had_ loved me, he always had. It was almost like it was me and him, in his library in the house – _my_ house, now – in Long Island, where Tony and I had grown up, and he was holding me close while he said all these things. It was the praise and fondness I'd always craved…and it felt good. I very carefully folded the letter and stuffed it back inside its envelope before I got onto the platform.

Earlier, I was going to fight Stane so that I could prove Dad wrong for the neglect he'd dumped on me. Now, I was going to beat down Stane to prove Dad _right_. So I held my head high as I was encased in the black and gold plates, still walked with my usual cocky swagger as I headed towards the ramp up to the surface.

"Right, I going to go find out what Stane's been up to," I declared, keeping the faceplate up as I turned to face Tony again. "Come after me as soon as you can, okay?"

"Just leave some of the world-saving to me, a'right?" Tony laughed as he tossed me a two-fingered salute. I grinned while mixing in a disbelieving look to shoot at him.

"When have I _not_ let you have anything, really? Seriously, now!" I chuckled as I dropped down the mask and returned the salute. Then I about-faced and bolted up the ramp, rockets roaring to life as I soared into the glittering night sky.

Dad had loved me. And now I was going to remove one last demon from my life, and it could only get better from there.


	10. Chapter 10

"Sector 16..."

I was muttering that as some kind of chant as I ventured through the factory complex, trying to find the location of Stane's pet project. Mina was collating data from the company mainframe and trying to pinpoint exactly where it was, in the meantime showing me tracking data for Pepper and the other government agents combing around. Currently, I was approaching the large glass doors that housed Dad's massive arc-reactor, and I easily blasted them out with a couple of shots from my repulsors before carefully stepping over the broken glass and inside.

"Got him," Mina breathed in my ear. "To your left, Andy, towards the back."

"Thanks," I murmured in reply, following her instructions and spotting a large yellow door striped with black hazard warnings. On a normal day, this door would lead to the underbelly of the reactor, where a deck of 1970's-era computers could be used to maintain the power flow of the reactor. But the black sixteen on the locked handle entirely changed my knowledge of what was going on down there. Hello, lion's den. I squared myself with the door and stretched out my right arm. The exterior plates slid open to permit a small rotary rifle to slide out, and a simple squeeze of my fist fired a slew of bullets into the lock, ripping it apart.

"Too easy," I snorted as the gun put itself away, and I jogged towards the now-open door and clunked down the stairs. The light dimmed as I emerged in the watery underground, support chains dangling from the ceiling and the computers flickering quite peacefully as I walked by. It didn't relieve the paranoid feeling crawling up and down my spine as I continued deeper into Sector 16.

I descended a small set of stairs before things started to look more modern, and I glanced at the nearest screens disinterestedly as I circled. Mina flickered an alert that she'd found readings for the suit designs I'd found, and I nodded silently as I finished my circle...and paused when I saw a very familiar silhouette in the shadows. My armor's gears creaked silently as I approached the mark one escape suit – or, more accurately, what was left of the mark one escape suit. I could help but look at it up and down in disgust.

"I managed to wear _that_?" I scoffed a little, shaking my head. I would've laughed and retreated if I hadn't heard a shift and a rattle behind me. I whirled, and both of my rotary rifles sprang out of my gauntlets. The guns whirred faintly as I stepped cautiously towards the black area, even as I heard the chains beyond rattle slightly.

"Mina, gimme low-light," I muttered under my breath, and the world shifted into shades of green and black as I walked very slowly towards the shadowy platform. My reactor provided enough light that I managed to make out a metallic shape in the darkness, sort of hunched over. I took one more step, and I was nearly blinded by the sudden light blazing from that figure. Mina quickly returned my visor to normal visuals, and I saw that the glowing light I was now facing wasn't any regular light; it was light from an arc-reactor. I looked up to find that it was in the chest of a blown-up, tank-reinforced version of the mark one.

I knew who was driving it as the giant metal monster chuckled viciously.

"...well, shit," I huffed, about half-ready to run. The behemoth took a ground-shaking step towards me, and I could easily imagine Obadiah Stane's smile as he readied himself to plow into me.

"Might want to run away now, little girl!" he laughed as he took another step towards me. I'll admit it, I wanted to run, run and never stop, but I remembered Dad's letter. He loved me for being smart and quick-witted, and I wasn't going to disappoint him now. I squared myself to Stane and clenched my fists.

"No chance in hell," I growled. "Not anymore."

"Might wish you had," he snarled before lunging at me. I barely managed to leap out of the way, rockets roaring to life as I looped around and above the reactor, heart pounding in panic. I couldn't take Stane alone; I only hoped Tony was on the way as I raised a hand to blast out a couple of windows above the reactor as I soared up.

"Mina, get Tony, pronto!"

"Jarvis's already waiting for the connection, one second!" Mina insisted, and I waited for what felt more like a minute before Mina flashed Tony's ID on my HUD. I could hear him breathing, so I didn't waste time with pleasantries.

"Tony, he's got a suit!" I warned him as I kept sailing upward, eyeing the screens while Mina tried to run a trace so as to locate Tony. Note to self: get her and Jarvis better interfaces with each other. "How about you get over here, yeah?"

"I'm on the way!" Tony replied quickly, and I heard his own rockets rumble loudly as he changed direction. I paused my ascent to wait for his arrival, drifting only a little before I heard Tony again, muttering," Okay, I'm right...above you."

I looked up and nearly shrieked to see a red and gold missile blaze less than an inch above my head, and I would've hit him if he hadn't looped back to slip up next to me. Of course he would've gone with the red, just to annoy me with his characteristic lack of subtlety. _Sigh_.

"Bastard's got a heavy, heavy suit," I filled him in as Mina sent images and instantaneous blueprints to Jarvis to offer Tony for his perusal. "I don't think it's all that flight-worthy, but I'm not risking anything. Let's harry him from the air, and then he might cool his jets long enough so we can get in some heavy damage. He loves stroking his ego."

_And I would know_, I thought, but I kept back those memories pretty well. Of course, "pretty well" actually meant I was able to block out the memory of the pain, but not of the act itself. I could swear I could feel him pinning me down again, hissing things in my ear, dehumanizing me so thoroughly I felt like a piece of trash for months afterward. But those days were over. Today was when it was all gonna change, and Stane was going to get a taste of his own medicine. The repulsors in my palms started whining as I flexed my hands and Tony shook his head in disbelief.

"Where could he have gotten the plans? He was never at the house," Tony surmised, even as I heard a rumbling noise from below us, "unless he came when we _weren't_ there..."

He was startled into silence as he glanced down, and when I followed his gaze, I saw Stane clawing up through the asphalt, right as Pepper and the government agents were about to swarm the reactor area. Mercifully, they stopped short of managing to get into Stane's range, and my repulsors flared brightly, almost sending me shooting into the air.

"He bought the mark one," I snarled. Ten Rings had likely found what was left, scattered in the sand, and, of course, they called him. "I'd say we send him a greeting card or four; what say you, bro?"

"Couldn't agree more," Tony affirmed as his own repulsors flared. "What's the term? Happy betrayal or somesuch?"

"Somethin' like that," I snickered faintly, and I was gracious enough to let Tony take the first shot. His blast slammed Stane right in the shoulder, catching his attention. What I wasn't expecting was an overlarge rocket launcher strapped to Stane's wrist getting fired off. I lunged out of the way, and I was grateful as Mina popped open a window that gave me a direct feed into Tony's view. He'd looped around the missile with loads of room to spare, and I took the chance to zip in close and fire a repulsor blast from each palm, holding the golden beams there for as long as I possibly could.

"Andy, stop draining your reserves!" Mina eventually snapped at me, so I rolled my eyes and cut off the blast. That didn't stop me from shaking my fist at Stane.

"Yeah, how'd you like _that_, Obi Bouldy?" I taunted. If I could've stuck my tongue out at him, I would've. "Come and get some, you lyin' sonofabitch!"

Guess what. He did. Both Mina and I were dead silent – as was Tony – as full-size rockets emerged from the boots of Stane's suit. Their roar filled the air as Stane literally lifted up off the ground. My mind churned at top speed, even as Tony enjoyed a bit of eloquence.

"Shit."

"Took it right outta my mouth," I quipped, even as Stane started looming closer. I could only hope my crazy plan worked, even as I asked, very quickly, "You wanna distract him or should I?"

"Does it _matter_?" Tony argued. "We need a plan, _now_..."

"So go vertical already!" I ordered. "Ice him up, then get him to drop on the roof. I'll handle the rest."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, I'm pretty damn sure, now _go_!"

Tony shot skyward, and I twisted out of the way as Stane blew past me, after Tony. I breathed a light sigh of relief before I landed, and I was soon surrounded by Pepper and the government people.

"Andy, what...wha..." Pepper was stammering, glancing skyward at the two shrinking lights. I had Mina lift my mask up, albeit reluctantly, as I glared unwillingly.

"In case no one has noticed, I need to get in there to get Stane out! Now move!" I snapped, and I gently moved Pepper out of the way before pushing through the other suits, back into the reactor room. The smell of burning metal clogged up my nostrils, and I had Mina drop my visor again, also so I could keep an eye on Tony. In the meantime, I twisted at the circuits, letting Mina tear down the breaker programming as the power built up within the reactor. I glanced at my window on Tony, and a pit dropped into my stomach when I saw Stane's masked face looming in the corner.

"Mina, gimme audio," I breathed in terror, and she even expanded the little screen so I could listen and watch in horror.

"Just because you and your little sister get ideas," Stane was growling at Tony, "doesn't make those ideas yours, Tony! The both of you, so naïve and stupid..."

"Maybe," Tony coughed; I realized Stane had a chokehold on him. _God, please, protect him_. "But at least I don't rape family friends. And lemme ask you this: how'd you solve the icing problem?"

"...icing problem?" Stane echoed weakly, and I grinned victoriously as Tony kicked out at Stane, breaking his hold. Stane twisted in midair, though, even as he started falling, and my breath caught in my chest as I saw his monstrous metal fist suddenly collide with Tony.

That was when I lost the feed.

"_TONY?_" I shrieked, heart pounding in fear as Mina brought my present back. The call line was dead, and I didn't know what had happened. Oh, God, oh, God...

"Andy, he's falling fast!" Mina barked at me, and I remembered to punch the emergency bypass before sailing skyward, past Stane as a column of blue-white light shot into the air with a roar. I think I heard Stane scream in pain as he was electrocuted, but I didn't care. I scanned the sky, and I saw, to my horror, a speck of gold and red, sprawled on top of a building. There was no light shining out from his chest.

"No, no, no, no, no!" I chanted as I flew down there, dropping onto my knees as I landed, and I wrenched my helmet off before grabbing Tony's shoulders, shaking him. "Tony! Tony, talk to me! Please...no...don't leave me...don't leave me alone again..."

He didn't move. Didn't reply. I nearly screamed, even as I heard sirens on fast approach, and Pepper's voice calling out in the distance. I barely registered it all as I clung Tony close to me, tears streaming down my face. He couldn't die...he was my big brother, he couldn't leave me like this...

"Tony...don't do this," I pleaded, voice cracking from my barely-restrained sobs. "_Please_, don't die! I love you...I love you so much, you _can't die_!"

I was like that as the paramedics came, begging him not to die, sobbing my heart out and close to hysterics. I'd never been so worried and terrified in my whole life. I didn't even care we'd beaten Stane. All I wanted was Tony to survive, to stay with me no matter what.


	11. Chapter 11

The ambulance ride was one of the worst experiences of my life. A battery had been jury-rigged to fit into Tony's chest, keeping the electromagnet live, but he still didn't move from his bed at all. I was riding back there with him, still in armor, and Pepper was next to me, one hand rubbing the back of my neck, since rubbing my shoulder was impossible in the armor plates. I only slipped on my helmet once during that whole ride.

"Andy...I'm sorry," Mina informed me after I'd given her my request. "He'll pull through; I know he will."

"Thanks," I mumbled weakly before I slid my helmet off again and worked off a gauntlet so I could grab at his armored hand. Getting him out of that was going to be a problem when we arrived at the hospital, but even with the minimal power of the battery, Jarvis could get into the suit and have the plates work on disengaging. I rubbed at Tony's knuckles a little, tears starting to sting my eyes again.

"Don't die, Tony," I pleaded softly, my voice nearly cracking because I desperately wanted him to wake up. "_Please_. You're..."

I slid to my knees, getting close enough that I could gently hug Tony, burying my cheek against his neck. My chest was heaving with sobs, and Pepper sunk down with me. God bless that woman. I barely managed to choke out, "You're my hero, Tony. Don't...don't die. You've saved me so much...you can't go until I pay you back..."

Thankfully, the hospital wasn't a far hop from wherever we'd been, so arriving was pretty soon after. Of course, there were reporters hanging around, but Pepper, amazing woman that she is, easily pushed them out of the way as the paramedics, with Tony, raced inside, and I followed armor and all. In the waiting room was Rhodes, and he was the one who took the time to grab me tight and let me cry into his shoulder, rubbing my back despite the armor plates. Once I'd had another sob-fest, he helped me get out of my armor and waited with me until the surgeon came out, giving me a nod as I got to my feet.

"He's bad, but he'll survive," he reported as I bounced to my feet, ready to interrogate him. "What's left of his sternum fractured, broken collarbone and ribs, and he needed a lot of stitches where the plates broke into his skin."

"Is he awake?" Pepper asked as she came in, eyes wide, ready to grab my other shoulder despite Rhodey's arms wrapped around me. I knew if it wasn't for him I'd have collapsed on the floor a long, long time ago. "Is he okay?"

"Miss Potts, no, he's not awake, but he'll survive," the doctor replied, explaining Tony's medical condition to her while I slipped into Tony's room and closing the door behind me. I found the nearest chair and dragged it over before barely managing to fall into it. Tony's face was pale, and drawn, as if he'd gotten sick and might either be about to recover or about to die. The cords attached to his chest led to a battery, and the beeping of the monitors warned me he was still alive, if only for now.

I swallowed and looked away, bowing my head before I rubbed hard at the back of my neck. He couldn't die. I didn't want him to die. You know the sort of ideal little kids have, about their parents, or elder siblings, where they can do no wrong, can't die, and have the sorts of magical powers that can keep you safe forever? I never lost that. Even today, I still firmly believe that my big brother, no matter how...insane, drunk, over-the-top he can be, no matter how much of a jerk...he just knew what he was doing was the right thing.

And with that was invincibility. We'd come so close to death just three months ago, and here he was at death's door again, and there was no way, not after everything we had gone through. I wouldn't let him die. Not when things were so much..._better_. This new thing was home, a brand-new home that could maybe replace those childhood years in Long Island. I wasn't going to lose it.

Pepper knocked on the door after awhile, and I reluctantly shuffled to answer. There stood pepper, holding a box that was slightly squished from the hold Dummy had likely had on it. I could hear my bike thrumming outside, and I managed a weak smile as I thanked Pepper and retreated inside. That box didn't stay intact for long; inside was a shiny new arc-reactor, based on some experimental designs I'd noticed floating around in the private database not so long ago. Very carefully, quickly, and quietly, I swapped out the battery plug and slotted in the new reactor. It gleamed brilliantly in the dark room, and I sighed, leaning back a little.

If only he would wake up. I could feel my own heart aching for the silent pain. I straightened again, grabbing his hand and squeezing tightly. Tears were stinging my eyes as I looked in that silent, solemn face. He wasn't supposed to look like that, a childish part of me mused. Tony was supposed to be smiling, laughing, eyes open and glittering with his own genius, face warm and ready for anything.

This wasn't Tony. He had to wake up...remember.

"Hey, Tony," I murmured, trying to keep by voice from cracking but still raw from everything I was trying to hold in. "I – I bet you remember, when...when Mom died, and...and I couldn't sleep? Never stopped crying?"

I had to force a laugh. Otherwise I'd break down and cry.

"Course you'd remember that...'cause you'd always come in, and...and hold me tight once you'd climbed into bed with me. You'd wrap me up tight...a-and tell me that it was all gonna be okay. You remember, right?"

My eyes were already flooded before I got up, and I made sure the blinds into the room were closed before I took Tony's shoulders. Slowly, gently, I yanked him to one side of his bed, exceptionally careful to keep the wires and electrodes on him as I turned him carefully onto his side. I scurried back around the bed, slipping against him to keep him from falling onto his face. Soon, I was coiled up next to him on the bed, manuevering his limp arms around my shoulders and clasping his hands tightly to my chest, right on top of my reactor.

"It'll be okay, Tony," I cried softly, tears trickling down my face. I could feel him settling back next to me, and I swear I felt him nuzzling my cheek, ever so slightly, as his head settled about halfway on top of mine. "E – everything's going to be okay, Tony."

I stayed like for what felt like hours. I could hear Pepper and Rhodey talking outside, but I didn't listen closely. The only sound I could hear save my own breathing was the steady beep of the heart monitor, and I nearly fell asleep to that constant throb. I think I might've managed to doze for a bit before the monitor woke me up. _Sigh_. But I knew that I could let Tony die, and, even if he was, I wouldn't let him go without a fight.

I turned to kiss Tony's cheek a little, and maybe I was a little delirious, because I think I saw his eyes squint, just a little. Tony does that when he's about to wake up. Then again, I could've been wrong, so I just pulled his embrace closer in around me, a few more tears leaking out of my eyes and splashing onto his arms. But there was no mistaking the tiny huff of air that slipped out from his lips.

"...Andy...?"

My breath caught in my chest, and my heart almost literally jumped into my throat. He'd be okay. Tony was going to pull out of this, just like...always.

"I'm right here," I replied, reaching back to tousle his hair as I started crying all over again, all my worry washing away into sheer relief. I wanted to laugh, to cry out that my brother was going to _live_. I felt his smile as he weakly pecked my cheek, his own muscles tightening his grasp around me.

"Good. Don't go."

Even though he was probably asleep by the time I turned to glance at him, I grinned anyway. I kissed his hands and squeezed before I swore a new promise, to him and to myself.

"Never, Tony. I'll never, ever leave you, not even if you make me."

It was the best I could do as the beeping got stronger. I yanked that cord out of the wall, and sighed in relief as silence enveloped us, and I easily drifted off to sleep, wrapped in my big brother's arms. Of course, this scared the medical techs when they came in the next morning, but I was adamant and staying put, and a still-recovering Tony backed me up beautifully. So that was where I stayed, right close, as he was stitched up, mended, and made aware of the whole mess starting to crash in. Essentially, company in chaos, public in panic, and the press making up their own stories. Not to mention there were some lovely, lovely pictures of me and Tony in our suits, battling blurred images of Stane's armor.

The first headline we both saw, two days later and safely back home in Malibu, was sprawled across the LA _Times_: _WHO ARE THE IRON TWINS?_ I couldn't help but laugh when I saw it, and I think Tony would've cracked up harder if he hadn't still been hopped up on whatever painkillers the hospital had put him on. That, or his ribcage was aching.

"Wish I could come up with some terribly great excuse to make them just...go away," he huffed as he tossed the paper aside, onto a stack with a bunch of others in the living room. While Tony was sprawled out on a sofa, hands behind his head and looking quite relaxed, I was seated across from him in a chair, straightening up my blouse and blazer. Oh, yes; I was going to walk into the Stark Industries pressroom and issue a statement – provided by Agent Coulson of the...Strategic Homeland something-something-or-other – so the press could shut up and let us move on with our lives.

The thing was, I didn't like the alibi I'd been provided on a small, neat stack of blue notecards. For Tony, he'd been having a party on his yacht in Avalon – and had testimonies from _fifty_ guests – and for me, probably the worst alibi I had ever seen for a hacker: out on the town, cruising on my bike, and actually breaking the stupid speed limit. I'd supposedly spent a nice night in jail, only to be let off with a warning. No way were either of those going to hold under close scrutiny. I sighed and pocketed the cards.

"Don't worry about it," I insisted for maybe the twentieth time as I got up, brushing down the legs of my pantsuit. Yes, it was borrowed from Pepper, yes, I still owed her a skirt suit. "I told you, I lead the conference, spin the story, and done. Though I still don't get the whole bodyguard thing..."

"Don't ask me, I didn't write it," Tony huffed as he lowered his arms, starting to push himself upright. "Can't I get up now...?"

"No, you don't," Pepper scolded, coming up behind me so quickly and quietly I nearly jumped. I have no idea how she does it. She turned to me as she settled next to Tony, and I nearly quailed under her assured, confident gaze. "Andy, Happy's ready for you. All set?"

"Yep!" I replied as I made sure my notecards were tucked into the inside pocket of my jacket. "Y'know, I don't even _think_ I'm my half of these Iron Twins! Otherwise, y'know, I'd have this boyfriend, who worried about me all the time, maybe already suffered one nervous breakdown over me, but he'd be pretty damn proud, y'think?"

"Just go already!" Pepper scolded me, and I shot out of there before I could interrupt anything. After all, Pepper liked her plans. I headed out and climbed into the Bentley Tony had reserved for these sorts of important functions, and, of course, Happy was right there in the driver's seat.

"Ready, Miss Stark?"

"Ready as I'm ever gonna be, Hogan," I replied as I slid on my shades. "Let's get rollin'."

I didn't have to tell him twice.


	12. Epilogue

**A/N:** Oh yes. This is it. But don't be sad! Because I'm starting on the IM2 remix, though the title is still uncertain. But there's plenty of material to be used. But! Enjoy the end of _From Her Eyes_!

* * *

Oh, God, this was the craziest idea I had ever had. Right in front of me stood the entire Stark Industries press corps, and I was about to walk right in front of them to offer the statement. I was going to _die_.

It only helped a little that Happy was right behind me – obviously ready for a quick escape in case I panicked or I had to get hustled out of there right on the spot. For now, Tony's driver and bodyguard had a comforting hand on my shoulder while I waited for Rhodes to shoot me a quick, brief intro.

And then I was on. The press was dead silent, mostly because I was, in comparison to Tony, I was nonexistent and invisible. I managed a small quirk of a smile as I withdrew the cards. In my own head, I was panicking and running out of there screaming. This wasn't my arena; this was Tony's. But Tony was in no fit state to do anything, so I had to do it. Just great. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

Introductions first.

"Uh, hi there," I started. "I'm, uh, Andy Stark, and I've got a, erm, statement, from my brother and the company. Basically –"

"Miss Stark?" a very, _very_ familiar voice broke in right at that moment. I cringed, even despite the fake smile I managed to plaster on my face as I spotted the Barbie-like blond in the front row. Cue Andy versus Everhart, round two. "Can you honestly expect us to believe that everything that occurred at your brother's factory last night all comes down to a robotic prototype and a couple of bodyguards who were _conveniently _present to deal with the issue?"

"Look, I know it sounds crazy," I tried to cover, in classic, Tony-style fashion. Maybe I could pull it off. "'Cause you know, if it'd been, like, Tony and me, that'd be insane. I mean, given his track record, and mine, though you guys obviously, erm, don't know me. We're not the hero types, y'know."

"I wasn't insinuating that," Everhart parried, and I felt my face flush. Uh oh. Self-implication sucked, and now I was getting myself into it. Just like Tony. Now to dig myself out.

"Well, good," I shot back, brows crashing together a little. "Because if that were true, and Tony and I _were_ superheroes, that'd be crazy and...and...fantastic."

Great. I'd just committed a Tony-grade gaffe. I could see the press' faces lighting up, and Everhart was sitting back, perfectly smug. Oh, I'd get her one day. I picked up my cards, doing my best to keep my hand from shaking.

"Truth is," I began, but I stopped. I asked myself what Tony would do. I knew he wouldn't read this stupid alibi, and go for the deepest trouble he could get into. Well, why not? I didn't have any better ideas, so I tossed the cards over my shoulder and put both hands on the podium, leaning close to the mike. I stared right at the cameras, forcing myself to think, act, and feel like Tony.

"Truth is," I started again, "Tony's Iron Man. I'm Trinity. Pleasure to meet you."

And the press room. Went. _Nuts_. Everyone jumped to their feet, screaming questions at me, but my common sense had finally come back to me, and I bolted towards Happy. Rhodes ran to cover for me while Happy ferried me through the back corridors, back to the Bentley, and immediately down the Pacific Coast Highway for Malibu. I sprang out of the car as soon as Happy had pulled up, and it took me maybe one second to race from the passenger door all the way through into the entry hall.

"Oh, God, they're coming," I panted once I saw Pepper's stricken look and the broad smile on Tony's face. "I can't believe I went and did that..."

"So?" Tony asked as I managed to walk in the rest of the way, kicking off my heels and massaging my feet. "Jarvis, lock the door, and _anyone_ not family had better not walk in."

"Of course not, sir," came the reply, but I hid a smirk because I could hear a slight flux in "Jarvis"' voice pattern as "he" continued, "Of course you demand your privacy. I'm sure the press understands _perfectly_."

Tony seemed to notice the extra dose of sarcasm and glanced up, and I fought back a laugh. Pepper saw me struggling and leveled me with a look, to which I replied with a gleaming, innocent smile.

"Did good, Andy," Tony eventually complimented me as I sat down on the sofa, near his feet but close enough that I could grab his hand.

"Gee, thanks," I laughed quietly, even as I glanced back at the news, which was replaying my first – and likely only – press conference. God, I wasn't going to ever forget that. "Now...before I forget, there's someone you need to meet."

"Really? Who?"

I just grinned before I glanced at the ceiling.

"Hey, Mina? You can stop pretending to be Jarvy now."

"Oh, thank _God_," Mina sighed, and I could hear Jarvis's real voice grunting and huffing in exertion. I could easily imagine Mina holding Jarvis – had this been reality, of course – in a full nelson and pinned to the floor. "I thought I'd have to keep faking that voice for the whole time..."

"What'd you do?" Tony asked, eyes wide in shock and disbelief while the sounds of the cyberspace struggle kept going. I replied with the same innocent smile I'd offered Pepper, and she groaned when she saw it again.

"Meet my new best friend: Mental Imaging Network Artificial, AKA Mina," I spun, grin never leaving my face. "She'll be the one running my suit, as well as running my room independent from Jarvis. Mina, you're not killing Jarvy, are you?"

"Of course not!" Mina retorted, and I could hear the pout in her voice. "He might have some very interesting lockouts, but I've got him easily."

"Oh, God," Tony groaned, covering his face with his hands. "She's hijacked Jarvis..."

"And not for lack of trying, Tony," Mina replied rather cheerfully. "The anti-hacking suite is most intriguing, but it's not good enough."

"And there she is," I laughed. "No need to worry about me; I'm safe in my own hands!"

"Just _promise_ me she'll be good," Tony pleaded, but I saw the half-joking glint in his eyes. "Please, _please_ tell me she'll be good. I don't need anything else to make things...more crazy..."

"Tony, if you worry anymore than you usually do," I quipped lightly as Jarvis was released, and I got the feeling Mina had been "boot-kicked" back into my room, "I'd be afraid that you'd pop a blood vessel or somethin'!"

Tony grinned at me and laughed, and I leaned down to hug him tightly. Yes, all would be well. I just had that gut feeling.

And it changed right in the reverse, when I emerged from my room a few hours later. I'd left Tony on his own with Pepper – and the TV, of course – so I could go see just how far my ripples were spreading in the pond of the twenty-four hour news cycle. On another screen I'd found what looked like a passable New York-style pizzeria on a satellite feed I'd jumped, so I changed out of my suit and into jeans, shirt, boots, and leather jacket while pocketing my wallet and snatching up my keys. Instead of using the handy-dandy elevator, I jogged downstairs to tell Tony where I was headed.

"I'm headed out; picking up dinner," I called, not really looking at him as I looped around the contained waterfall to align with the stairs down into the garage. "You want anythin'? There's a pizza place I found via satellite, looks pretty New Yorkian to me..."

"Uh...we got company, Andy," Tony's voice echoed behind me, and I paused. Wasn't the door...locked? And Mina had given me a security report, saying there hadn't been any breaches she was aware of...

Note to self: better interface between Mina and Jarvis _soon_.

I turned to look at Tony, and found a black-clad, dark-skinned man sitting in the chair I'd appropriated earlier. He wore a black eyepatch over one eye, and carried himself in a way that just screamed "government secret operation". I didn't like him already. Not to mention I wanted to know how he'd gotten in!

"And just who the hell are you?" I asked bluntly. He sat up, gaze fixed on me. I wondered if he did still have an eye under that patch, because his gaze was pretty damn intense.

"Nick Fury," he stated calmly. "Director of SHIELD."

"Never heard of 'em."

"The Strategic Homeland Intervention and Enforcement Logistics Division."

"Oh. _You_ people. It's catchy."

"Maybe you'd like to stay and chat a bit, Miss Stark," Fury noted dryly, and I internally fumed. "I was just tellin' your brother...you two are not alone."

"Really."

"I'd like to talk to the both of you about the Avenger Initiative."

Somehow, I didn't like the sound of that.


End file.
